Relapse
by deathbringer374
Summary: After TI fic. What if some things went right, and some went wrong? What if nightmares just... never stop? What if after seven years, a soul lies there, agonizing? After a brief episode of blind rage, Asuka leaves to Germany, afraid to deal with the consequences. Seven years pass and... one night... the phone rings... AXS Fic. R&R!
1. 3 am

_AN: Ah… Hello! Yes! This is indeed, something else. Let's take the basic premise of Third Impact, similar to ST, but aside from that basic premise, let's have another take on what might've been. Kinda dark... pretty dark, so yeah, read under your own risk. _

_I own nothing._

_Note: This is a pilot, no clue where this is going right now. Just... jumped into existence monday morning. So let's imagine..._

_You're walkin' down a horror corridor  
It's almost four in the mornin' and you're in a  
Nightmare, it's horrible, right there's the coroner  
Waiting for ya to turn the corner so he can corner ya  
You're a goner, he's onto ya_

_Out the corner of his cornea, he just saw ya run  
All you want is to rest 'cause you can't run anymore, you're done  
All he wants is to kill you in front of an audience  
While everybody is watching in the party, applauding it_

* * *

Chapter One: 3 a.m.

There was a puncturing feeling on the back of his leg, another; clearer one, right where he supposed his left lung was located twisted every time he took a step or breathed in too deep. He'd seen the gash on his thigh, seen the pink muscle mass turn crimson after the knife had been removed, watched in a sense of detached wonder and awe as blood gushed out like a fountain. His shirt was wet, and for once not with water, alcohol of vomit; the material clung to his skin and felt stuck to it at places, and in the space between his ribcage and navel another oversized needle pressed hard. The bright lights around the sidewalk fizzled and disappeared, jumped in and out of focus with his every sway. His feet moved unevenly, but then again they had gotten used to it for the past seven years.

Ikari Shinji smiled wistfully when every last drop of energy washed off his body in a single breath, his body convulsed in a heap of tremors and almost fell stiffly on the pavement. Was he really so weak?

He wobbled, shoulder pressing against the cold concrete wall to his right, and slid down to the floor with a damp sound just as scarlet spittle dribbled with every haggard breath. The night was clear, cloudless, but with all the luster of the city he couldn't glance at a single star, barely anything other than the tainted half-moon was discernible. _Pity, _he thought with ironic resentment. _Stars would've been nice for a last night. Or a cigarette. A cigarette would be nice. _

He did have the latter, the last one at that, so with the hand not holding down the warm liquid on his stomach Shinji searched for the pack on his jacket and extracted the uncooperative cancer stick. The empty pack dropped off his numb fingers, but there was no lighter in it as usual. No lighter at all, not in his pants or his other pockets. _Must've fallen off at some point, as it normally happens. _He turned the overtired eyes to the left side of his body, where the liquid had already stained through both his shirt and jacket. _Guess this is it, then, _he mused, distracted. Having waited for this moment for so long, the young man found it oddly… anticlimactic, with the lack of clusters or constellations to greet his passing.

Someone walked by him, in a rush as they would at such an hour, but he asked the question as loud as he could anyhow, croaking when a heave left a metallic taste in his mouth.

"G-Got a light?"

The stranger paused, regarding him from his peripheral vision with cold, distanced eyes. He probably looked like a homeless man; that aside, he stank of all hells of booze and tobacco, and the gentleman standing before him was dressed in a suit, apparently an expensive one at that. It was very late, and the man looked tired enough to be fresh out of work. After a second's consideration, and against all of Shinji's expectations, a lighter magically appeared on his right hand. The man extended the innocent object to him without a word, and suddenly the world made sense once more for a few valuable seconds.

Bloodied fingers retrieved the black, engraved lighter, alerting the man.

"Thanks," he rasped, disregarding the dribble of crimson froth that escaped his mouth when he spoke. "The last of the night… happy… birthday to me…"

"Young man, are you alright?" The man asked, seemingly concerned. A hand pressed against his shoulder, faint and cold. He couldn't feel most of his body anymore, but the lighter still found its way to the cigarette. Now _that _was muscle memory. "Are y-sir?! Are-you're bleeding! You're bleeding all over the floor! You need help!"

The scent of burned tobacco invaded his nostrils once more while he vaguely admired the engraved object and closed it with a resounding clap. _Help? Nah, I need some stars, maybe another drink… _He sighed contently and let his lead lull against the wall. The hand holding down the bleeding on his stomach fell, letting more precious liquid permeate his ruined clothes; the lighter fell off his hand. _Another drink, huh… _Cigarette in his mouth, Shinji smiled and inhaled a lungful of nicotine-induced smoke, only to cough it back up with blood sprinkling on his lips. Was he breathing still? How deep was the gash on his back that he could feel a familiar sensation of lack of air? _So familiar it hurts… _he thought, and took another painful toke, it drifted into the night sky, like his misery, like his life. The emptiness which for two whole years had consumed him was finally dissipating; at last, he would reunite with himself.

The gentleman who had offered the nice lighter screamed at his phone, desperate, and a second after moved from bellowing at the streets to pushing a cold hand on his clothes to try and stop the incessant bleeding. It almost made Shinji laugh. _If you knew who I was, would you help me still? Do you have any idea of what I've done? _The hand pressed harder against him, making something rumble in his battered stomach._ Maybe you had a sister, a brother, a mother, and I __**killed**__ them. Maybe you had a son I couldn't save, or a daughter, you idiot. Just… let me die... _His voice was too numb to produce anything short of a whimper; let alone articulate a single word to voice out his discomfort with the man's misplaced concern.

A spasm shook him, alerting the man even more; he felt it coming, the blob of blood trying to escape his insides, so he put all efforts in moving his right arm and retrieved the cigarette before the second spasm forced the crimson liquid out. He wheezed, lower lip dribbling while the disgusting puddle of half-coagulated blood rested comfortably on his pants, until he managed a painful breath and put the cigarette back in his mouth. He took a third toke, losing the ability to understand whatever it was the man was screaming at his face. Good thing at that, it was almost time. He would die, at last, and the senseless ranting was off-putting to the celebratory mood of the evening.

_Funny how time stops when you're about to die, _Shinji mused idly. _And on my birthday too… I wonder… if Father felt this same calm when I bit him in half… _Another toke, a long one, to make sure he got a good last use of his damaged left lung, and he coughed it back up with more blood. Still, he stubbornly inhaled more accursed nicotine.

He had started smoking because Kaji had done it ironically enough, and damn it, why not try to emulate the ladies-man in every way possible, even surpass him when the love for addictive substances was concerned? Nothing to lose there, no Asuka left to impress anymore, so fuck it, right? Never mind Kaji had stopped smoking three years before, never mind Kaji only ever gave him that pity-filled, sorrowful look whenever he laid eyes on the waist of space named Ikari Shinji. And yet whenever he thought of the man he had brought back from the dead at a dearly personal cost, to his dismay and joy, another face jumped into Shinji's memories, distorted as they were.

Asuka's blue eyes washed over him one last time, forcing a queer sense of peace to climb into his awareness for whatever reason, not the girlish version carved in his memory, but the picture he'd seen on that magazine the day before. Maybe she had married, or had a good relationship with a true man who could carry with the burden of her trauma. Hopefully she was happy, out there, away from him, being beautiful and independent. It had been a good day, all in all. On good days he often thought of her, so why not tonight? He'd left the restaurant early, as he would on Saturdays, had gone to his favorite low-life canteen and consumed dangerous amounts of alcohol, cocaine and tobacco while the crowd cheered for him and gave him celebratory drinks, had exited said place without getting into a fist-fight for once, and had somehow kept an innocent girl from being raped and/or probably murdered. It had been a good day.

_Yeah, _Shinji thought as the cigarette escaped his parted lips and extinguished its flame in the small, red puddle under him. He smiled at the light bulbs above, sight darkening without his consent. _It's a good day to die. _

The faint sound of an ambulance nearby rattled around his brain, but it was swallowed down by the darkness. He slept, and knew no more.

Neo-Tokyo 02. 3.27a.m. 2022.

* * *

The phone rang.

Normally, for her to be bothered on her days off meant there was either a case no other general doctor cared or dared to take, a national emergency, or a call from a foreign country. Disregarding the first two, Asuka glared vehemently at the object in her nightstand that refused to stop making noise.. A painful knife twisted on her insides when she randomly remembered the date, but she picked the phone nonetheless. Peachy, just when she had decided to turn in an early night so as to finally get her ass on a plane on the next day, destiny somehow intervened and flicked her carefully laid plans into the pyre.

The number was one she recognized instantly, so more annoyance and a cold, heavy coldness slowly made themselves known in her mind and stomach. She snatched the device from its charger and pushed the button hard enough to make the small plastic give out an almost imperceptible crack. It was that day, again, and she had not mustered up the courage to send the carefully prepared package which now rested on her night-stand, _again_.

"Hello," she said curtly, language already switched to Japanese. "What?"

"Excuse me Miss Sohryu, you have a call from-"

"Katsuragi, I know. Pass her through already, I want to get back to sleep."

"Y-Yes of course, Ma'm. Just a second." There was click, and suddenly a change in the communication. Misato ever only called either drunk, tired or when there was some sort of serious disturbance with Shinji, so when she heard the sob on the side of the line, Asuka knew something was seriously amiss.

"What happened?" she asked without a second thought. "Misato, what's wrong?"

"H-He's….(sob)… Asuka…" Another sob, a heavier one. The pit of her stomach turned to ice. No. No, not on _that_ day.

"What happened? Tell me already." She demanded while she rose out of bed without realizing it. Something was very wrong, Misato had not cried over the phone for near two years, not to her anyhow, not since she had stopped answering her distress calls, escaped, and he had started getting "better".

Heavy intakes of breath from the other line, frantic in nature and ill suited for a woman of Misato's caliber filtered though. "He's… being operated o-on right now… (sob)… someone stabbed him, m-m-many times… Asuka… they're not sure if he's…-"

"Send a plane for me." The redhead deadpanned. The suitcase she kept ready in her closet was out from the moment Misato had said _He. _"Do it now, I'm on my way. Where are the wounds, what's his current status?"

"A-Asuka… _God_… there was so much blood… I-I'm scared, the doctors-"

"Misato," She interrupted as calmly as possible. "Settle down. Send a plane for me and tell me where his injuries are. I'll do what I can as soon as I land."

"I-I already did," Misato sobbed into the line, trying to breathe. "It's from NERV Germany, a VTOL…(sob)… should be there any minute…"

"Good." Asuka looked out the window. There it was, landing in the spacious backyard her bastard father had been too happy to provide. "What are his injuries, Misato?"

"He-he's…(sob)… Asuka… he was dying when they…when they brought him in… I…" More heavy breathing, a drink of something, and then she sounded a bit clearer. "Punctured left lung, stab on his leg, on his side… s-stab on his stomach…" Something very nasty crawled up and died in Asuka's belly. The stomach bled, it bled aplenty; such a lesion alone was dangerous, but when she added a punctured lung and heavy bleeding from the thigh, the imminent threat of death was clear. "I… b-broken ribs… two I think…"

"Okay," She was climbing into the VTOL without realizing it, she had thrown over a shirt and some pants without realizing it, there was an ID in her hand and both a suitcase and the package in the other. She never knew what the man in the VTOL said, never realized when she sat down. "Okay, have they stabilized him?"

"T-(sob)-They're trying to… he… he lost a lot of blood… a… liter and a half… maybe more…"

"Shit." Asuka said, glaring out the window. More than a liter and half? Bad, bad, really bad. Too much, too much blood to consider, too much damage. "Shit."

"A-Asuka…? Is h-he, is he gon-"

"No," She cut in before the former Sub-Commander could utter the words she dreaded. Not with NERV's advancements in medicine, not with the serum, not when _he_ was concerned. "No. He has a strong heart. He won't die, not for something like this." Her mind was mush, scrambled and distorted, yet out of nowhere, hot, scalding anger consumed her as the memory of a similar call two years before came to memory. "Who did this to him?" she demanded and repeated without realizing it; her fingers clutched the seat until the knuckles turned white. "I want them _**dead**__. __**Dead**__._" Along with the fright, the rage was stirring as well. She wanted blood, the blood of the person who had done it, who had touched him.

Him. Shinji. _Her _Shinji. The Shinji she had been preparing over seven years to save.

"H-He got into…(sob)… a fight. Tried to save some girl, some teenager from a g-gang. They… he beat up three of them but…(sob)… but they stabbed him from behind… (sob)… and that B-Baka just kept f-f-fighting… the girl ran away… li-little shit… got her life saved by him and c-couldn't even call an ambulance… d-damn it…!" More drinking, heavy drinking. The kind of drinking she hadn't done in years, not since the baby had been born, the kind of drinking Shinji did nowadays.

"What happened to the others? The ones he beat up, the one who stabbed him?" She asked coldly. Her body was numb, her mind sharpened; images of what she would come across once the hospital doors opened flashed through her head, what she would find once she cleaned up the wounds and inspected them ran in and out of focus.

"I… (gulp)… I have them…" Misato answered, drinking heavily. "(Gulp, gulp, gulp, gulp, gulp) …I… I'll kill them… I'll kill them all." Despite the ominous seriousness of the situation, Asuka chuckled darkly. Of course Misato would kill them first, this time at least. "Asuka," she whispered, sounding older than she had ever heard the former Mayor; stern, cold, and broken. "You need to come here… if he dies… You both need to make amends before… damn it…" There was a sudden bellow behind her former guardian, and the line went dead.

A small, almost imperceptible part of her mind told her it was all futile as she sat and glared at the VTOL's window; her quick travelling to Japan, her apparent interest in Shinji's survival, her future efforts in trying to keep his inner organs together. By the time she got there the doctors would most likely be done with the surgery and besides, even if she _was _a medical prodigy who could slow down or repel death altogether with her hands, she was still just twenty-two years of age and had very limited experience, regardless of how perfect the operations had been. On top of everything, she doubted Shinji would want her to touch him.

The former Second Child bit her lip, unable to stop her mind from returning to the last time she had seen him. _I pushed him, _she pondered heavily with something akin to anguish gnawing at her consciousness_. I pushed him through that street and left him to die_, _after he took care of me for months, after he saved me._ _I told him he was nothing more than a pathetic, perverted excuse for a human being, the lowest of the low. I laughed at him, I... betrayed him. _She tasted blood when the memory of his swollen face came to mind, eyes bulged and lip cut, sprawled on the floor and breathing shallowly over a broken wooden table. His arm had been in an unnatural angle, crimson had sprouted from his mouth, abdomen and leg, and after she was done she had run, escaped like a wimp and left him to die.

She had not talked to him in seven years. Seven years in which the scars of her fight with the EVA Series had vanished, seven years in which her red eye had turned blue again, seven years she had devoted to the treatment of her own trauma and pain, and the foolish task of saving others as of late. Seven long years had passed, in which the boy she had once known had let himself drop into the abyss of alcohol, drugs and violence to numb himself and forget he was the Third Child, bringer of death. He always wrote on her birthday, sent her some gift along with a letter she was too much of a petty human to open, all expect for the current year. Shame deeper than anything she had ever known, deeper than the memory of her Synch Ratio falling to zero, deeper than the memories of being disemboweled alive, kept her from touching the room where all his gifts were stored.

Her leg moved up and down, anxiety increasing. It would take hours for her to reach Japan, hours in which Shinji could very well be dead and her last words to him would always remain the disgusting bile she had spewed on the day she'd left. _Shinji's different, _Misato had told her, over and over again, first coldly, full of spite, and then in forms of pleading whispers. Even Kaji had tried, and she had turned a blind eye and deaf ears to it all. She had not been ready, then. _He's hurting Asuka, so much. I can't… I can't control him anymore. I can't just sit and watch him self-destruct. He won't take the program Asuka, won't get clean. He was in the ER last week, Asuka, he almost died of an overdose. He was in the hospital again, got into a fight with some people in a bar. He's drunk more time than he's sober. We found him in a sewer, Asuka, he was half-dead. He was beaten… abused. He doesn't speak to me anymore, Asuka. He took a cooking course, Asuka, I feel like he's finally getting better. He has a job now, works as a cook, I think he's happy. He's still, you know… using… but a lot less these days. Asuka, I'm worried, he won't call anymore, won't pick up the phone. Please come home. Please, Asuka, he __**needs**__ you._

Her former guardian had tried, truly tried to reach him, but Shinji was too far gone, he had been too far gone for years, he had been too far gone ever since Third Impact. If she focused hard enough, the screams of pure agony and helplessness as he slept and his nightmares consumed everything came back with tremendous clarity. She'd known, all along she had known that the worst thing she could possibly do to him was to leave, to show absolute indifference like she'd done during Third Impact; it had brought a sickened sense of satisfaction during the first months, to know he was suffering, and yet and time flew by and she matured out of her own trauma, Asuka realized Shinji's burden was something beyond anything she could fathom. And she had chosen to ignore it, ignore him altogether and let him simmer in the pool of self-hatred and horror his mind had been reduced to after witnessing the end of the world, while she made a fake life for herself as far from him as possible, half a world away.

She failed to realize when exactly, but she fell asleep at some point, dreaming of breakfast full of toast and miso soup, fish, and Shinji's smiling face.

* * *

Pain.

It welcomed him back once more into the land of the living, to the man's great dismay, extracting a dissatisfied grunt out a worn-out, damaged chest. He felt severely hung-over; his body was drained of all strength, the bones inside his limbs felt as though they were made of napalm. It hurt to breathe, hurt to think. He refused to open his eyes, knowing well what sort of surprise awaited once he roused; there would be a parade of men and women in white coats prodding around his body, asking stupid questions and demanding he give them every detail about a night he was only too keen to forget. _Shit, _he thought, distracted. _It was __**such**__ a good day to die, I should've never asked for a light. Shit. _

_Shit. _

The thought itself was laughable. His fixation with the dreaded cancer sticks had been the reason of his salvation. It was ridiculous, stupid even, that _cigarettes_ were the reason he was still (somewhat) breathing. He had suffered from a punctured lung before, once when he was young, so the sensation on his back was not new. Something was stinging around his ribcage, rubbing painfully against his insides when his chest expanded or contracted. A tube had been stuck down his throat to help him breathe, he discovered, and removed only hours before he awakened.

The numbness returned with a vengeance, taking away the slight joy of having seen that boy in the school uniform standing next to the light. Once more, Lilith had chosen to let him simmer a bit more in despair before she took whatever he had become and devoured it. Had Rei returned at all, perhaps she could have helped him end it. She had always understood him, but Rei had never come back, had abandoned and betrayed him just like everyone else. Just like… her.

Shinji wondered how long he had slept, and whether he should thank the man in the suit or seek him out and shoot him in the head. Surrendering to another day in the world of the living he so very despised, he struggled to open his eyes. Light blinded him at first, making his head explode in powerful aches.

"Ow," he muttered, coughing. An invisible blade stabbed him in the back again, stealing his ability to draw breath for a second. "Same old stupid ceiling…" His hands were uncooperative, unwilling to move even an inch so as to cover the bothersome source of his pain. The man wondered if he tried to stand, and reopened what he assumed were deep wounds, if he could bleed out before the doctors had a chance to steal his glory. He wondered if there was a knife anywhere in the damned hospital room, so as to drag himself to the tub and end it at last. "Same old… same old…"

"You're awake."

He smelled her before he saw the movement on his left, before she spoke. Fruits. She had always preferred fruity shampoo, something that scented freshness and cleanliness. A mixture between a chuckle and a cough made its way out of his hoarse throat. "Guess you're back to finish the job, huh? Or… maybe I am… dead. Heh… (cough)…" he managed to rasp. "You always were kind of diligent about your work… be it piloting… medicine… or murder… (cough)."

The figure stiffened at his words. He recognized the red hair; unbending posture, tall and proud figure and more accentuated female curves from the corner of his eyes. He saw her stance slump a second afterwards, her shoulders drop, and raised an amused eyebrow.

"Shinji," she said, strangely relieved.

"That's my name," he answered in turn while trying to grin. "Don't wear it out, will (cough).. will ya?"

She did not turn. The former pilot easily recognized the stiffness of her spine as stress and annoyance the moment he spoke. "You shouldn't be speaking; you need to regain your strength."

"And _you_ shouldn't be here," he retorted with ease. "Unless you mean to kill me, I'd ask you to please leave me alone."

Anger. So easy to poke it out of her, even after so long. He had always had a knack for making her hate him. It seemed every word he spoke upset her, honest or no, so Shinji simply enjoyed the way her back stiffened once more and the way she spun around, narrowed blue eyes staring at him in ire.

"You're an idiot," she hissed through gritted teeth. The former Third Child found himself surprised to see the rims of her eyes red and her face flushed, like she had been crying. "You almost died four days ago, did you know that? You've been laying here like a vegetable, getting fed through a tube and getting foreign blood because you barely had anything left when they admitted you! Are you stupid or something?! Getting stabbed four times and _**walking**_?!" She shook, barely able to hold off… whatever it was she was restraining from doing.

_Tears? For me? Shit, I must really be dead, _Shinji though dispassionately while his bored gaze tore through the fuming redhead. _If this is hell then the devil sure is resourceful. _"Four days?" he said instead. Turning to examine his deprolable state, Shinji discovered the delicious, dull sensation of morphine running through his veins. "I thought I felt a punctured (cough, cough)… hmm… lung," he rasped. "I'm thirsty."

She angrily brought a glass from what he supposed was a nightstand by his bed and wordlessly offered it to him, giving the young man a chance to catch a glimpse of her right arm. As he greedily drank the offered water, a queer satisfaction ran through his body. _The scar faded, _he mused, feeling the dull ache of broken ribs while the water dribbled down his chin. _Good, at least she won't bitch at me for it anymore. _He had made a deal with Lilith, after all.

Once he was sated, Shinji let his head fall back on the pillow, staring at the ceiling.

"You're an idiot." Asuka muttered again. He had all but forgotten her presence; whatever drugs they were pumping into his body to make it heal faster had him on a strange, new high he had not yet experienced. Alas, he cared very little for her presence anymore; should she try to strangle him or worse, he would not fight back. "You've said that," he answered in a dead monotone. She probably had never heard him use it, not that he hadn't tried to speak with her for seven _fucking _years. "Stuck on this (cough) bed for days on end… Put me out of my misery, why don't you?"

He didn't see it, but Shinji felt the intensity of her glare trying to melt off the skin on his face. "Is that what you wanted, to die alone bleeding out in an alley, drunk as fuck and dead for an ungrateful little bitch who didn't even bother to call an ambulance for you?! On your birthday?! God-damnit Shinji, what the hell happened to you?!"

Her screams had affected him so much in his younger years, but after so many fights, so much pain, so many sleepless nights with nothing but the memory of Unit 02's head rotting outside the Geo-Front and her grunts as she died, the phantom pain on his arms and his limbs and his insides when the nightmares began, nothing but the gaping pit that Third Impact had left, Shinji found he cared little for her outbursts anymore. He managed a shrug, and bit down on his lip to keep the sting of pain to himself. "It was a good day to die," was all he said, not looking at her. His jaw hurt, he'd been punched a few times in the fight, if he remembered correctly. Punched, stabbed, left to die alone; it sounded so familiar to him it almost made the young man laugh aloud.

After a few seconds of silence, he added "You didn't call an ambulance either, remember?"

The redhead recoiled as though he'd slammed a fist in her stomach. He suppressed a bitter smile with brutal force, then shrugged again and let it split up his parched lips. "The lowest of the low doesn't deserve an ambulance. You should've published that, maybe made a memo to the whole damn country, he… he he… (cough, cough), that way that idiot would've known better than to help me."

The rage started to radiate off her in waves after the initial shock of his words wore off, and yet Shinji found himself strangely unaffected. Seven years, seven _years_ he had tried to reach her, to have her speak to him. Now that she stood beside him, the need he had felt all that time was strangely absent. He only felt sick, and numb. A dead man who somehow breathed, it was all he was, all he had been for years. He had gone numb, and boy, did that not feel much better than muddling through the myriad of terribly dark emotions his bleeding chest had to offer?

"Is that what you want?" Asuka managed, shaking with fury and derailing his thoughts. "To die?! Why don't you just do it yourself, then?!"

Had he had the energy to shrug again, he would have. Speaking was starting to hurt. "I'm a coward, remember?" Shinji answered, still refusing to acknowledge her presence. "Too much of a coward to put a bullet through my head, but hey, maybe once I'm out of here I'll manage another overdose, maybe this time nobody will bother to look for me. I guess smoking's out of the question with this lung fucked twice, but there's always alcohol. Cocaine. Heroin, now that's something I haven't tried in a while. Morphine would do, too… (cough)… but it's so expensive…"

He tried to imagine her shocked and outraged expression, not bothering tilt his head her way. "Don't act surprised; Misato told you, didn't she?" He laughed, or tried to, succeeding only in making the agony around his body more acute. When he spoke, his voice was dark, filled with bitterness and heavy with sarcasm. "She told _everyone_, hell, she even tried an _intervention. _Twice! Ikari Shinji, substance-dependant; the Great, Invincible Third Child, a simple junkie. Shit, I'm a drug addict, but I have some self-respect, you know? I'll… (cough)… not be paraded around my country like a (cough) freak. I'll wear my cross… (pant)… like armor, so it can never be used to hurt me. I'll nail myself in it, and bleed out alone."

A strange feeling rose from him as the last words left his mouth. He ran out of air, suddenly remembering he was basically down to one lung now, and gasped for a second before a wet cough tore through his chest. Blood sprinkled on the sheets, on his face, off his chin when another, and another forced Shinji to remember he had sustained serious wounds. The metallic taste on his mouth probably meant a punctured stomach, the blood coming off his nose internal hemorrhaging from his useless left lung. _Bah, _he thought lazily. _They must have me hooked on some pretty sweet new serum for me to be alive. NERV's guinea pig to the end, aye?_

From the corner of his vision, he managed to see Asuka rooted on the spot with a strange, shocked look on her face he had never seen before. He paid it no mind, choosing to try and make his right arm function once and for all. A shaky, scarred mass of knuckles crashed unceremoniously against his mouth not a moment after; Shinji tried to rinse off the crimson sprinkles off his face and succeeded only in removing the tube meant to provide his futile respiratory system with generous oxygen to keep it from collapsing.

Asuka's cold and steady hands were a shock to him in turn, so much so that he almost bit of one of her fingers out of instinct. He never saw her move, but felt said fingers expertly grab for the tube while her other hand cleaned his nostrils with an apposite. _Where the hell did that even come from? _He mused, almost asleep. The smell of disinfectant made him dizzy. Had he not been so strongly sedated, he would have surely jumped off the bed upon feeling her touch him, or at the very least slapped her hand away. A part of him very desperately wished to do little else than bite off a piece of her skin and have her hit him, have her behave in a remotely familiar way.

"Thanks, I guess," he rasped once she was finished; he was even blinking slowly, but sleeping had not been a useful escape for the last seven years. _Don't… want to go there… yet…_

"Shut up," she snapped, almost too quietly for him to hear. "It's normal, you haven't used your lungs in four days, there's some blood bound to be on the alveolus, and don't even get me started on your sto-"

"Lung," he rasped, interrupting her. The world was starting to fade.

"What?" Her voice sounded more distant, even when she felt him close in on him like he was prey and she a hungry lion. "What did you say?"

"Remember when I shoved you out of the (cough)… way from a moving car and then you pushed me (cough, cough)… and ran?" His tone was ice, hardened and frigid, emotionless beyond anything she had heard from him in years. "I fell on that table, you know, the one that kicked two of my ribs in?" Shinji whispered while he nodded off. It took an unnatural effort to force his head in her direction. "My body broke that table, and a splinter of my own… stupid (cough)… rib, a big one I was told, made itself a comfortable home in my left lung…(cough)… was down to 60% use of it before this… guess I'm down to one now…"

The world fell out of focus, but this time there was no rewarding feeling taking away the misery of his chest, no sense of poetic justice and sweet victory against Lilith and his parents. He'd sleep, yes. And then he would wake up, and be forced to live another day. "Shit," he grated, voice rough. "I'll have to quit smoking… that really _was… _my last cigarette, huh…?"

He slept.

The nightmares, the _memories_ were right there, waiting, as always.

* * *

She could not tear her eyes away from his sleeping figure; every time the young man took a shallow breath and wheezed ever so slightly her heart would hammer like a drum against a chest which for so long had been still. He would flinch in his sleep, even sedated, frown, turn his head in anger and fear, whimper, and sometimes cry out in desperate, muted horror. Despite all of her training, despite the many times she had been faced with horrid images of damaged, bleeding bodies, her hands still shook as she inspected his chart and looked over his bandages.

Even while working on a patient she was deadly calm, focused on the task at hand and shutting every single emotion out of her brain. The memories, the pain, the images of him smiling despite everything they had gone through, the sensation of his eyes desperately clinging to her naked form, the pleas of his half-dead voice coming out of the phone, they would all disappear. Saving a life was so simple in her brain, and twice, _twice_ she had left him to die.

_**Karma's a bitch, huh, **_her pride commented with glee, making Asuka feel sick to her stomach. _**Like some bruises and stabs are anything close to being dismembered. **_A few years before she would've bothered to argue, but she felt tired, so tired out of the sudden, and so ashamed. _Do you know he has the same nightmares? _She asked her pride instead. _Do you know he wakes up screaming almost every day? Do you know he has visions of other people's trauma run through his head like a broken record? Did you take into consideration that he medicates, drinks and drugs himself numb only to sleep peacefully for a few hours? Are you not seeing him whimper as he sleeps, sedated by morphine? _Her heart was rebating even faster, she could hear her own pulse crushing and shutting out all of the outside noise.

Her pride was silent. _Guess you did, huh. Now shut the __**fuck**__ up, I need to make sure he's breathing. _Only the beeping of his heart monitor and the sound of her raging heart were left afterwards, engulfing the young former pilot in a cloud of uncertainty.

In reality, she had been ashamed for years; so engrossed in the image of herself running away from him after he had saved her life _again_, so drowned in her own sense of worthlessness and obsession with her work, so shocked, even then, to close her eyes and see clearly how he extended his hand to her and pleaded for her. For _her_. Unable to put aside the pain, the trauma, insecurity and hate behind, she had hidden it, used it to fuel every other aspect of her life, and starve out the shame.

All of his presents, his letters, his phone calls; they were stocked safely and neatly in a place where barely even dust managed to enter, or recorded in the hard drive where her work was saved. Every time she had attempted to open one, the image of a redheaded girl screaming at him in the middle of the street, hitting his face and then pushing him in a feat of blind rage came to greet the now grown woman. Her fingers would still, her stomach would flip and lurch, the taste of bile would rise to her throat and then the gift would be carried and placed in said location with more care and tenderness than she'd ever shown him.

Shinji had never stopped trying.

Without something to give him reason, however, he had slowly decayed into a mess of scars, scratches, puncture wounds, dots on his arms, damage in his lungs and cold, deadly eyes. There had been hardly anybody but she who could have done something to prevent it, nevertheless, she had fled at the first opportunity and not looked back, stricken by a fear so great and deep it had been the new fuel to guide her pathetic existence, now that her pride was crushed under years of introspection, pain and realization. The man lying on the bed, barely breathing, had demons in his head only she could fathom, accept or understand. She had not. Out of spite, out of fear, out of habit, what did it matter at that point, anymore? Shinji was dying, if not his body, his soul, his personality, his sense of self. The alcohol had released his suppressed rage and aggression, the marihuana his deep trauma and sense of worthlessness, the cocaine had helped him feel strong, invincible, even for a few seconds. The heroin had shut out the voices, if only for a while. The prescription drugs had halted the visions and hallucinations, which allowed him to function on a daily basis.

_I could've taken all of that away, and he would've taken out all this poison inside me just by being there, _she pondered, and unconsciously took a hold of his hand. Shinji's knuckles were swollen, misshaped from knuckle push-ups and constant blunt trauma to his bones, his fingers were calloused and heavy, but his hand was still warm. _His eyes are cold, though. _

They were. It had taken Asuka a few seconds to realize just how far gone he was, just how much damage his own mind had done to him. Such pain, it could have never be healed by Misato, or a shrink, or therapy of any kind; only empathy from someone like him would have meant anything at all. He had gotten none, and his soul had bled out and hardened like stone. It broke her heart, it had broken it in three seconds flat, to realize the boy who worried himself every year to send her something was fading. He was agonizing, even if his body was still breathing shallowly.

_Sorry, _she thought, barking a mirthless chuckle. _I'm sorry, Shinji. I didn't mean to push you like that, I never meant those words, even after all that happened. I wanted to help you… so bad… but I was scared, and I was angry and I ran away and I'm so fucking sorry it hurts just thinking about it, it makes me want to rip out my own damn lung and put it in your back, if only to regress some of the damage I did to you all these years. _She was giggling, but tears were running down her face and Asuka's chest felt like liquid lava. _It won't mean a damn thing if I say that now, will it? I let it be too late, and now… now you're…_

"… still here, huh…" The grating voice uttered from bed. She could not raise her head to meet his eyes, could not bear the pain of seeing no emotion toward her at all. "…why… are you touching me…?" He coughed lightly, and her expert ear caught no sign of blood in his respiratory system for the moment. "… thought I… disgusted you… being a… drug addict and…(cough)… all that… so…" The heavy hand twitched in her hold, as if to yank itself out of grasp; Shinji barely had any strength in him, however. "What's all… (cough)… this… about…?"

_Say it, _her mind whispered furiously, pushing her own lips into motion. _Spit it out, you coward. _Asuka took a shaky breath, and finally lifted her tear-stained face to him. She saw it, saw the ice cold melt in seconds and a sliver of what she knew to be concern shine in his orb; for some reason, it brought life back to her dead chest. "Shinji," she managed, sniffling. "I've always known about the drugs… I… use… some of them, too." She admitted, tightening the hold. "Does it… mean anything at all if I… if I say I'm sorry?"

Just as quickly as it came, the sliver disappeared and the curtain of Shinji's dead soul shone in his cobalt stare. "So that's… it," he muttered. "You… feel bad, huh… well…" Blissfully for her, he turned to the ceiling. "I forgive you for leaving me out in the street to bleed out. It's not like you owed me anything, you know… (cough)… 's not like… I don't deserve to be left to die… so… if you hearing it will stop this… charade… then fine." He sighed with obvious discomfort. "I forgive you, you can go back… to your great life… I won't… bother you with my stupid presents... anymore… heh," even when it pained him to do so, he chuckled. "You probably just throw them… in the trash… right? Like those (cough)… love letters from school… he he… he (cough, cough, cough)."

Dead. He sounded dead, Asuka realized; his voice, though playful and somewhat charming in a way it had never been in his youth, lacked any actual sentiment behind it. The act was good, though, good enough to fool his workmates, the inner circle of the run-down bar Misato had mentioned on a drunken tirade, and their former guardian of all people. She found herself questioning the intelligence of every person near him then, unable to grasp how the immense, unbearable suffering and anger Shinji harbored was clear as day to her.

"This is what you've been doing," she whispered, her heart constricted painfully when the young man forced his fingers away from hers as though they burned. How long, she wondered, how many nights had he longed to hold her hand? How long had she dreamed of it? And now, he pried himself free of her. "You've mastered the act of being Kaji. Whatever happened to Shinji?"

He stared off into the ceiling with the cold look in his orbs which made him look so much like his father that it scared her, blinking a few times, mulling over his words. "He's dead." The former Third Child rasped, smiling with fake mirth. "He died about… two years ago. A tragic thing, really. (Cough, cough). Poor boy, all alone, drugged up in an alley, beaten to a pulp. Stabbed. Probably molested, as well. And you know the best…(cough)… you know the best part? He didn't even feel it. He was so far gone by that time… Ah… When I woke up in the hospital that day, I knew… he was just… gone."

The worst part about everything Shinji had just said had been the tone of his voice, the redhead decided. Gone was the biting sarcasm, leaving nothing but a flattened grate devoid of emotion, devoid of any human warmth. She recalled that particular phone call as well, quite vividly, and recalled leaving her practice to demand the number of mercenaries to her deadbeat father. People were underground right now because of what had transpired that night, and yet she had not mustered up the courage to drag her uncooperative feet to his side.

Asuka had been the first person to acknowledge his existence after Third Impact, even while detesting him. She wondered where the crying boy on top of her had gone after she had abandoned him, and realized the answer was buried deep in the eyes of the man who lay in bed and now produced a palpable rejection towards the very sight of her. During the first weeks she recalled vividly her own conviction that Shinji would love anyone just so long as they loved him back.

"Who am I talking to right now, then?" The redhead asked, dreading the answer. If Shinji was dead, then his feelings for her were as well, and their bond would dissolve, whatever it had been. The magical day in which she'd show up in his front door, scowling deeply with every one of his gifts in tow was drawing further away. The afternoon they'd spend crying, screaming, fighting and making up years of neglect and pain began to dissipate. Opening those gifts with him as he explained the meaning of each… the dream was dying inside her, taking along her very soul with it.

This Shinji had little to no interest in loving, nor being loved by anyone at all. He had relinquished his existence to one of appearance, oblivion, and inhibriation so as to drown out his own pain, since the pain was too much to bear.

Back in their young days he had scarcely mustered up the courage to look her in the eye. After their clash during the Seventh's training the strength in him had been systematically sucked out through trauma and pain. As the former Second Child sat beside the bandaged visage of Shinji, she discovered the man held no particular interest in looking at her at all. He had little interest in anything, because his soul was dying and dragging both his body and mind into the endless abyss.

"I'm what remains," he answered at last. "Now please, leave me be. You've tortured me enough with your presence as it is. If you're not here to kill me, or yell at me, or ridicule me, what the hell are you here for? Can I just not rot away in peace? Or does it give you a strange sort of pleasure, to watch your tormentor in such a frail state? I get it, you _**despise**_ me. You have every right to, and you do…(pant)… you do not have… (cough, cough)… to _ever_ apologize… to _me_…"

Later, she thought, later, when she was alone in his room, there would be time enough to analyze with ferocious scrutiny every word he had said, and the possible reasons behind them. At the current moment, however, her heart felt too heavy, her breath too constricted, to even articulate a biting remark. She realized, with tears threatening to spill from her eyes, that he _hated_ her. He hated everything and everyone; it was how he had survived. He had killed almost every aspect of himself with drugs and self-hatred, and had then flooded his wounded soul with rage. The drugs had found a way to soothe the unyielding wrath, and give him the time to develop this elaborated persona he presented to the world.

"I would kill that young little bitch you saved with my bare hands if I could, because she doesn't deserve someone like you bleeding for her," Asuka found herself confessing without warning. "I know you don't believe me, that's okay. I wouldn't believe me either." She scoffed at the idea of even trying to wrinkle the wrapping of his gifts. "I've never thrown away a present you sent, or a letter, they're all… accounted for. I used to hate the way you made me feel, I used to be disgusted by the memory of what you did in that hospital room, I used to yell at you and strangle you and demand the stupidest things from you, I would blatantly lie to your face and told you I hated you. And you knew that. Still, you saved my life without even thinking about it. You tried to save that girl before you even knew what you were doing."

She got up, face inching so very close to his that the marks of so many unnamed knuckles, elbows and feet became clear around both of Shinji's cheekbones, glaring into his frigid cobalt eyes. He did not move, barely reacted at all besides a curious raised eyebrow; he truly held no major attachment to life at all, and yet behind that impermeable wall of hatred, sadness and agony, Asuka caught a glimpse of him. They were still connected. There was still a chance; her dream was not forsaken. "You can bullshit the whole wide world with this act, Third," she whispered, scowl softening. "But I know you're not dead. You're still you, and I'm going to help you back up. That's a promise, Shinji."

He offered a macabre smirk in return, one which looked almost unnatural on his features. "Well," Shinji answered, amused. "Good luck, Second Child."

His connection with her was the last thing anchoring Shinji's soul to his body, she realized, and his wrath was so very desperately trying to cut it off. _Stupid, _she thought with a strange sense of glee. _You can never cut this. I've prepared for this moment for seven years. Now, it's time. _She kissed his forehead, ignoring the bestial snarl he produced and the horrible glare that came alive in his eyes. She ignored how he pried himself off her lips, even in such a state.

"Don't worry, Shinji," Asuka told him, heading for the door. "I'm here now. And I'm going to save you."

She also ignored the raging, deranged laugher mixed with wheezing coughs which followed her way out.

* * *

There was a memory she detested above all things, an image which terrified her far more than the recollection of Adam rising or of Lilith stealing her soul. No. Misato had seen far worse once; she had seen the result of her male charge's trauma and hidden rage. Sitting next to him as the young man shallowly drew breath and recovered from the second intervention, one which Asuka had orchestrated and directed, Misato remembered red eyes.

Red eyes, bright as blood on a sunny day; staring at her soul and leering.

Shinji had torn off the windpipe of a man with his own teeth once, killed three others with a knife and broken glass shards. The last one he had basically eaten alive, gouging out his eyes, ripping his lower abdomen open and forcing the man's entrails out and finally ripping out his throat and chewing on it. She had found him, had been the first one on the scene thanks to the tracker she'd snuck in his jacket the day before. She had seen him and stifled a horrified scream, appalled by the bestial visage on the young man, frozen in shock upon discovering he looked exactly like Unit 01 had when emerging from Leliel.

"_They had it coming," _was all he had said with a twisted snarl on his face, as drool and slime dripped down his chin and the police officers cuffed him with evident fear in their eyes. _"They just had it coming." _

Years before, people had tried to kill both Asuka and him. He had pushed the then broken down girl out of the way and gotten shot on the leg, only to then be pushed out of a two-story height and fall on a wooden table. Asuka had wanted to die; he had refused to let them make her dream true, and had paid for it with a lung.

She had never gotten around investigating whether the men he had killed had been the perpetrators of the attempt, or the men who had… abused him. Either way, Shinji, or whatever remained of him, had never shown a trace of regret and even smirked when the people he had murdered were mentioned.

"Hmm… now _you're_ here," the rasping whimper came from her right, startling the former soldier. "I'm drugged again." Shinji stated matter-of-factly as he turned in his bed. "That means Asuka dearest got to open me up like a turkey. How… _fun_."

The way he spoke nowadays never failed to drive a shudder down her back. Shinji, her dearest boy, sounded almost as cold as his father had. "Do you want me to go?" She asked, not daring a glance at his stony gaze.

"Do I have a say in it?" He rebuked; a drunken hand clumsily took a hold of the glass of water to his left and hoisted the precious liquid down his throat, dribbles fell on the gown as it cascaded own his chin. "If I had a say in anything, I'd have told you all to let me die instead of letting Asuka touch me."

"You keep pretending you hate her," she found herself responding with honest anger fueling her chest. "You love to play this character now, this persona you've created. You say you hate her, and you send her a present every year. You can't stand any one person insulting her in your presence. The same goes for Rei, God rest her soul. The same goes for me." Taking a hold of the calloused hand, Misato prayed for a crack, a nick in the impermeable armor the former Third Child had guarded himself with. "Why, Shinji?"

Perhaps it was due to the drugs, or the man's depleted state, but she caught a glimpse of honest grief and agony in his eye. "You all…" panting, the once shy boy addressed those deadly orbs in her direction. "Betrayed me… _all_ of you…" he rasped in return, quickly losing consciousness. "Just want… to die…" The statement alone made the hardened warrior bite down on her lip and stifle another sob, just as Shinji's consciousness faded and began the typical twitching of his nightmares.

She wondered who that was, that person laying in bed and breathing shallowly through knife wounds and lacerations in his abdomen, yet she knew that Shinji, in his pain, truly did want to die, and the only reason he had not yet taken his own life was simply because he refused to die before Rei came back from Instrumentality, or at least so he had told them at the last intervention.

_Drug addicts are experts in manipulation and lies, _the psychiatrist's words rumbled in the back of her brain, forcing a disgruntled huff off her nostrils. _They will say and anything to get them to their next fix. _True, only Shinji never had to worry about getting drugs, or even having to lie to get them; he was vastly recognized as the very first person to reject Instrumentality and unlock the souls of mankind from the Ocean of LCL. Any substance, both legal and illegal, was at the young man's reach and so it had been for years.

Recalling the way he so casually spoke of the many drugs he took on a daily basis had almost been enough to turn Asuka's skin pale, regardless of how she considered herself a functioning addict or not. "_Hmm, let's see," _Shinji's dead voice had echoed in the tape. "_Well, I sleep like shit every day, so you'll understand if I drink plenty of coffee in the morning. A Xanax or two to drive away the headache and nausea, a couple Panadols with about ten drops of Clonazepam to take down the tremors in my hands enough to cook, then a joint to mellow me out before work." _Two Xanax and that much Clonazepam would be just about enough to medicate a bodybuilder, and it was only his breakfast. "_I get kind of itchy after nine, so I'll take a Nuplazid to stop the visions, smoke another joint and get through the day. How many Valiums did I take yesterday? I think it was three, barely enough to keep me from freaking out before I reach my apartment. Then… maybe little vodka, rum, or whatever's strong and available. A joint to mellow me out, some sleeping pills and a few beers. On a good day." _

On a good day.

What was a good day to him, anyhow? She wondered when had been the last time Shinji had felt any sort of joy whatsoever, but then the terrifying image of him chewing on somebody's neck came to mind. Perhaps, a moment in which he was free to unleash the blinding rage which erupted constantly from his chest was the closest thing to joy he came close to, after numbing himself to the point of near-death on a daily basis. When had been the last time Shinji had kissed a girl, or taken a female out on a date? When had been the last time he had done anything normal at all?

"Betrayed you…" she repeated stupidly with the remains of alcohol that coursed through her veins. "I guess we did, huh, Shin-chan? We all moved on, or tried to, and you… you were all alone…"

She wondered idly if Asuka had slept at all, after finishing her revising, redressing and improvements on Shinji's stitches, the redhead had demanded the key to his apartment and had marched away, not even bothering to wave a goodbye to her former, heavily hung-over guardian. She had told the older woman with a voice of steel and the drive which had for so long identified her, that she was the one who'd rescue Shinji, so she needn't worry so much and instead could leave things to her. Yes, absolutely, there was plenty of logic in there, and insight.

Sure, the Second and Third Children had not killed each other after Third Impact, yet they had barely interacted at all. Any efforts the then shell-shocked Shinji had pursued with silent diligence had been met with cold, calculated biting remarks and insults which made him flinch as though hit by random debris. After the incident, Asuka had opted to push Shinji off the rail, since she had not given the boy permission to save her life, nor take a bullet to the leg in the process. Then the second bullet had penetrated the boy's lower abdomen, just as the redhead's hands touched his chest and made him lose balance. Two bullet wounds from a deranged returnee, and two broken ribs, along with heavy damage to his lungs, spinal column and skull.

_I remember it like it'd happened yesterday. The paramedics told me he was whispering her name, over and over again, and apologizing, _her molars ground with repressed anger; she had never gotten her revenge on Asuka. Misato had filled the would-be-assasin's body with lead and serrated steel, bled him out like a pig and had forced him to inform her of any and all other plots targeting her young charges. In her pursuit of gang members, politicians and normal people, Asuka had escaped her clutches and fled back to Germany in a VTOL. _How possible is it, Asuka, oh Great Doctor, oh Great Pilot Supreme, that a little schoolboy crush will be sufficient to draw Shinji out the darkness? You really believe you can just come back, play and pretend like you never left, and take over everything like you took over Shinji's time and attention when I opened the door to my house for you?! _

Asuka had long since rejected any and all interactions with Misato; she had always accused the woman of never paying the slightest sliver of attention or care towards her, gravitating exclusively towards Shinji and leaving her to cry out alone. _She's damn right about that. I am a shitty person, and a shitty guardian… but, Asuka… _The young man's chest had been covered with bandages like this before, and it had not been the result of a bullet. _You are shittier than I could ever be, you little idiot. Always bitching to Shinji when he runs away, and you exactly that, for years. I hope you enjoy the work of art that he's become. _

In seven years, Shinji had collected a distasteful collection of scars and wounds. At first, after Asuka left, he had maintained a semblance of self-control and sanity, however frail it had been. After the first unanswered calls, and a threat directly off the mouth of Asuka's father, Shinji had begun to… wither. At sixteen, he had gotten pitch-black drunk for the very first time, had tried marihuana, cocaine and booze on the same night, and gotten hooked to every substance instantly. The fighting and violence came soon after. He was very good with violence.

She rearranged her body-weight on the chair and stared at her former charge with something akin to soreness. Taking a gulp of water from her own plastic glass, Misato sighed in dejection. _You can be… so nasty… when you're angry, Shinji. Touji, Kensuke… Hikari… you scared them off. You even threatened Kaji, and fought him. You would've fought me without a second thought, as well. You'll fight anybody when you're drunk and high on coke, anybody who'll badmouth the woman you swear to despise beyond all things. The woman who betrayed you in Instrumentality, huh, Shinji? Why is that? _

He was good in street fights, his bestial instincts and reflexes allowed him to roll with the punches and dispatch most of his opponents with brutal efficiency, granted that they did not gang up on him and attacked four or five at a time. Even in such situations, Shinji would bite, claw and kick his way to either victory or unconsciousness. Ironically enough, he ended up gaining the respect of his assailants, who would in turn fill him up with more alcohol and drugs and laugh about little nothings with the Third Child. The destructive cycle continued almost every Saturday, so knife lacerations, puncture wounds, dislocated or broken fingers, cracked knuckles and facial trauma were a part of Shinji's weekend routine.

"_I've seen this before, in experienced karatekas," _The doctor had told both her and the redhead, handling over the X-Ray sheet to them. _"Look at the knuckles on the left hand, yes, these three. It's quite easy to see the fusion of the bones though bone callous. This is produced by consistent micro-fractures to the bone structure, but… this level… it's as if he hits that hand against a concrete wall every day." _The knuckle bones had been turned to a hard paste meant to slam against faces or hard structures, and if Kaji was to be believed, a simple punch from Shinji carried sufficient steam to crack an eye socket or a cheekbone on impact. She had never expected the youngster to offer so much resistance against a wizeded soldier and agent, and yet Shinji had been at the verge of biting down on Kaji's neck and tearing off his respiratory system in one bite.

Her brown orbs drew over to the visible scar on the side of Shinji's left bicep, where the bandages and intubation allowed only the last few letters be recognized. –ELITE, it read. Under any other context, the letters would have had a powerful meaning, a sign of Shinji's survival after all the agony and loneliness he had suffered, yet the word was incomplete. It was neither a tattoo nor some form of brand; it was a scar. The boy had carved the word into his skin with a knife, letter by letter, slash by slash. So as to always carry with him the mark of his failure.

_BAKELITE_

"_It's not like it's the red goo's fault, ya know?" _Shinji had slurred after she had first taken notice of the rapidly festering wound in his upper arm. _"It's not like I tried to climb on it, or that I yelled at my mother to move. Nah…(burp)… I sat there and listened as she died. Then when she asked me about it, **this** is all I could muster. So… here we are… he he, hahahaha!" _

Back in his childhood and youngster years, Shinji had very seldom smiled at all, to watch the curves of his mouth tilt upwards was almost impossible. After his seventeenth birthday, however, the realization that Asuka would never return sank in, and Shinji's downright spiral deepened greatly. He rarely smiled still, but he laughed with no actual mirth behind it, cackled endlessly when drunk with an eerie expression on his face.

"…'s three o'clock in t' mornin'…" Shinji slurred in English while his body twitched every now and then, sedated and most likely reminiscing some party, or song. "p't m' key in the door… bodies layin' all over t'floor… don't remember how they got th're… guess I must've killed th'm… killed them…" His words made her shudder, but as quick as they had come the small tremors dissipated, and Shinji's erratic breathing turned a bit calmer.

The beeping of the hospital room and both their breathing were about the only sounds in the ward after he finished whispering and continued to quietly whimper. Soon she'd have to leave; it was getting very late, she was about to kill seven people and had yet to lay her daughter to bed. Fresh blood would be dribbling off her hands once again, but the former Mayor found herself uncaring, the bastards who had tried to take the teenage girl belonged to a renowned gang who kidnapped, raped and butchered both girls and boys, to later sell their organs to the highest bidder. The ungrateful little bitch had no clue of how close she'd come to a horrible death, had it not been for Shinji.

Misato's eyes drew heavy. She wanted to grab a hold of the young man's bandaged hand and squeeze it, whisper to him that everything would be alright, that she'd care for him now and he'd get better. _He's listened to it so many times before, _her mind offered with dejection, orbs glued to the tiny scratches and scars that covered the man's visible fingers. _Yeah, sure, you'll follow him around like some little sister for the first week or so, then you'll go home to your family and your baby girl and forget all about him for a month. The next time you try to contact him, he'll have abandoned whatever program you crammed him into, he'll spit on the ground next to your feet to let you know just how much your empty promises and words mean to him. _

"We all moved on…" she whispered sourly, bitterness dripping off her tone. "Why… why do you have to make it so hard…?"

A faint chuckle bounced off the man's wounded chest and forced Misato's lips shut, eyes now wide as saucers. Had he listened to her last sentence? The very thought of it brought a deep feeling of shame which blossomed in her gut. He chuckled mirthlessly some more, mixing in coughs with wet wheezes and actual laughter. "I know, right…?" he rasped, licking dry lips. "Such a pain in your ass… these many years. (Cough, cough)… ah… might as well just let me rot and go back to little Rei, don't ya think? You…(pant)…. wouldn't want… her… being near me… now… would you?"

The tone of his voice felt smooth, a tender whisper if ever there was one, but his eyes told a completely different story. _Get the hell out of my room, you lying bitch. Stop pretending to give a damn, your act makes me sick. _It was almost as though she could read under every line without even meaning to. "Junkie-Shinji… Stupid-Shinji… is a terrible example for your precious treasure… (cough)… we want… to shelter her as much…(pant)… as possible… don't we?" _You have a new model now, a real child to take care of. Go and be everything you weren't with me. You and your daughter can both go to hell. _

"Wouldn't you like to see her?" she offered, feigning innocence. Perhaps, she pleaded to the Universe, perhaps he had not listened, he had been too far gone in the meds and the tranquilizers and the serum to hear her terrible sentence. "She'd be happy to visit you. Maybe… if you take her out to the park then you'll see, Shinji, you'll see th-"

"Spare me," he grated, disgust now evident in the man's voice. "As if your dear… _husband_… would ever (cough)… would ever let me within twenty feet… of your treasured child…"

The image of Kaji and Shinji meeting face to face once more brought nothing but dread to her chest, which was already constricted in so many different directions. If she had betrayed him, in Shinji's mind Kaji had betrayed Asuka not once, but twice or thrice already by abandoning her and letting her run rampant and unguided in Germany, alone. Shinji despised the pony-tailed man to his core, and had already tried to kill him on one occasion. "Do give… little Rei… my sincerest greeting," added the former Third Child sarcastically. "I'll be sure to… (cough, cough)… send her a nice present this year. You can tell her… it was… from Asuka… he he…. Ha ha…"

_I know you'd prefer it if I was dead, _the next line sent a powerful shiver down her spine. _So just leave me alone, and I __**will be**__ in no time. _"Why would you even…" he grated after a few heartbeats. "Call her… huh? Did you know… I've been calling... for years? _Years_." He spat the word with obvious disdain. "And now,... suddenly _you_ call, and she's magically here. (Cough)… I'm sorry, but that's… fucked up. If she was going to be here, might as well be for my funeral, not for…(pant)… its foreplay… ha ha…"

"She had a plane ticket bought for June the 4th, mr. Know it all," This time she could not keep the anger off her voice, nor did she want to in the first place. "She was going to come here and surprise you on your birthday, and then her bastard father realized it and packed her full of work for the next three days, just so she'd lose the plane, and the chance." There was only a tiny bit of a lie in there, the part about Asuka's father, but everything else in the statement had been true.

So true, in fact, that Shinji had fallen into a solemn silence, cold blue eyes now addressed to the ceiling. She watched the corner of his jaw tighten; the flaring of the nostrils, the way his hands curled up into fists and squeezed the sheets with vehemence. He was furious, yet was unsure towards whom the fury was to be directed; if Misato was a betting woman, and she was, she'd put all her money on Asuka, and himself.

"Yeah," he managed at last, after what felt like a short eternity in the small, quiet room. "I'll believe that as much as I believe you, oh, Great Guardian of the Unguarded." Sarcasm; the typical response from him as of late, when his list of biting rebukes was running empty, Shinji would conjure up the dark sarcasm developed after he had turned eighteen and attempt to offend whoever he spoke with at the time enough to either instigate a fight, or have that person get fed up with him and leave. Permanently. He had tried said technique with her a number of times, to no avail. "I bet she was planning it and stuff, right? A big surprise party for Baka-Shinji, mass murderer, genocidal maniac, right?"

He had stopped panting she noticed, stopped coughing, which meant plenty of adrenaline was now running in the young man's bloodstream, a clear sign that he was not simply angry anymore, he was furious and insulted. Shinji actually lifted himself off the bed, causing evident agony to his still healing wounds, if only to spit out a pinkish glob of coagulated blood and spittle next to Misato's left shoe. This time, there was no need to read between the lines. "_Fuck you_." He added with spite, glaring at her with misdirected hatred. "Get out of my room, Misato. And don't come back again. I'm done with you," exhausted limbs gave out and Shinji collapsed back into the mattress, snarl still present in his features. "I'm done with _everyone_."

"That's a pity," she responded while rising off the seat. Asuka had the right of it, strangely enough. There was a glimmer, only clear when he was raging or seething, a glimmer of the person he had been before, crying out for help so hard it sounded like deranged screams in her mind. "Because we're not done with you. _She's_ not done with you. And you're not done with her, either. I called her up because the both of you have unfinished business, and it will kill you both if one of you stubborn, blind, stupid brats doesn't do something about it. So tough luck, stud, but I'll use every little bit of influence I've got left to literally tie you two together with handcuffs until you sort your shit out."

"Did you know," he answered instantly, with a fake, lopsided smile which looked nothing short of repugnant in his snarling face. "That I tried to _kill_ her, Misato?"

"Yeah, yeah, big whoop," the purple-haired woman responded, waving off his statement as though it meant nothing. "She almost killed you that one time, too. So you're even now. And I know that no matter how much you want to, you'll never put your hands on her, will you? Look me in the eye and tell me you'll hurt Asuka. Lie to me, come on."

The youth would have loved to scream at her, to yell and spit out pure venom in her face, to laugh at the absurdity of her logic and crush any and all hopes she may have had or rescuing the frail little brat he had been. Just as he was about to bellow that yes, of course he would put his hands on her and strangle her properly this time, he stopped, and some unknown force closed off his jaw with such vigor that the teeth in his mouth almost cracked. _**Never, **_whispered the boy, a boy he had long since left for dead. _**I would never hurt her, never put these dirty, junkie hands on her. I wouldn't dare to think about hurting her in any way.**_

"Yeah," Misato nodded in his general direction before departing. "You have no problem saying it to me, but you can't even bring yourself to voice out a lie that regards her, do you? See you around, Shin-chan. I know you don't believe it, but I do love you. Very much so." The woman's eyes tenderly locked with his furious, incredulous ones. "Get well soon, honey."

The door closed. And so he sat there and brooded in silence whilst his molars ground with rage.

"God damn you…" he muttered, lower lip quivering and jaw hurting from the pressure once he was alone. "God damn you… you little coward." Had there been any strength in him at all, Shinji would've risen from bed and trashed his room in a feat of blind rage; he would have taken any and all pills he found afterwards, to see if he could actually pull another overdose inside the hospital before the nurses sedated him or the security detail tazed him. He had nothing left, nonetheless, not even enough strength to lift his own damn body to the bathroom and slash his wrists open, let alone hit anything or turn any one object over. "You little fucking c-coward…" if only he was not such a pathetic wimp, he'd have ended the ache long, long before.

_**Asuka's here, **_the annoying little voice boomed from inside his head, to which Shinji answered by shacking it until the pain became blinding, and still… he could faintly recognize the words. _**She's here! She came! Asuka came back! Yes! I get to see her again!**_

"Shut up," he mumbled, almost blind with fury. "Shut up, you good for nothing little shit. So what if she's here? It doesn't change _anything_. We're in this together you and I, and it's about to go underwater, remember? Not even _she_ can save this sinking ship."

_**Baka! **_His own younger voice barked back, forcing a blink out of Shinji. _**Asuka said she'd save us! She promised! Do you really think someone as pathetic as you can even try to stop her from doing anything she sets her mind to?! Damn, you really are an idiot.**_

Idly wishing to have some level of control over the many drugs being pumped into his system, Shinji sighed dejectedly, and felt the many invisible blades stab him again all at once. "Pff, yeah right," he muttered with heavy eyelids, not noticing how he sounded much, much younger than he was. "Yeah… right…"

He hated himself for many reasons, _many_ reasons, they ran from the most basic thing to very detailed, small particularities he discovered and subsequently despised. One of the simplest ones, was, after all, how imagining Asuka's smiling face in that magazine managed to calm the eternal anxiety that corroded his chest. Better than any pill, better than any drug, just picturing how her body would feel next to his, were they ever to lay down together, was enough to stop the tremors, the shaking and the hallucinations. Just imagining her giving that smile to his miserable self quelled the thirst for substances to an extent.

It never stopped the nightmares, though. Nothing ever stopped the nightmares.

* * *

Tokyo 02. Living district. Ikari Shinji's Apartment. 2.58am. Day Five after Initial Incident

Of course she had been with men. Other men; different men, she had lain with Germans, Japenese, Latinos, hell, she had even let herself draw an American to bed in one particular drunken night. It never failed to make hers sick in the morning, make her guilty for unfathomable reasons, force a sickness from her belly which would convert the ecstasy from before in feelings of deep repulsion and nausea. It felt wrong, in her brain, in her body, in her soul, if felt wrong to lay with any man whose name was not Ikari Shinji. The most pathetic part of it all was that the closest she'd ever gotten to actually sleeping with him was him strangling her and her shoving him to what could've been his death. Regardless of how ludicrous it seemed her body never lied; she needed to be forcefully enhibriated to simply lower her defenses enough to let herself be touched, then, during the act on many an occasion she had demanded… violence. Pain, intermingled with physical pleasure, mostly managed to obscure that sensation of queer guilt corroding the very essence of what she was.

And what was she, now?

Sohryu Asuka Langley, great War Hero, Child Soldier, Captain of the German Forces, doctor, surgeon extraordinaire at twenty-two years of age, was a great personality both in her nation, and the world. People all over saw her as the one warrior who had chosen to stand her ground to the very end, defying SEELE, NERV and Ikari Gendou in her last act of rebellious fury; a powerful soul, the first human other than the Commander's son to exit Instrumentality. Her peers respected her and gave her plenty of professional distance, wary of her intellect and temper. She excelled in any and every little thing she set her mind to, and to others it was clear sign of strength, character and diligence.

_Bullshit, _she spat out the bitter taste off her mouth, swallowing a large gulp of Shinji's rum and letting it burn all the way down her stomach. _I only excel because I focus obsessively on literally anything other than my own damn thoughts. _The shrink had always had the right of it, however little Asuka was willing to accept the man's insight and advice. _Having my hands in somebody's ribcage takes away the thoughts for a while. Books, manuals, techniques, procedures, anything; I'll take anything and focus on it rather than focus on… that…_

The spear came down from the Heavens, as though sent by God himself, splitting her arm in two with a wet sound. Hands, fingers pressing into her belly, rabid molars grinding her innards into paste, her liver being chewed on as she lay there, helpless. Her last word had been his name, the name of the boy who never came to her rescue.

Asuka drank heavily, gulping down three large shots directly from the bottle. She panted, closed her eyes in a vain attempt to rid her vision off the EVA Series, and refocused them on the tainted moon above. _Bakelite. _She recalled the way Shinji uttered the word; a word which symbolized the greatest failure of his life, a word he had carved into his own skin with a kitchen knife. _Unit 01 was covered in Bakelite, and her mother just sat there with him as I was being butchered. Then the bitch took her son on a field trip to make him lose his mind, and the world ended. _

She faintly recalled being demanded entrance to Shinji's apartment in order to assess just how much work there was to do. Instead, upon discovering the many, many prescription medicines, more than half an ounce of pure, Colombian cocaine, several bottles of alcohol, sleeping pills, marihuana, pain-killers and medication for schizophrenia, she had opted to steal a freshly opened bottle of rum, and now there she sat, on his balcony, drunk out her mind.

_Flor… de… Caña… _she read the label lazily, almost drifting to sleep from the task alone; she had scarcely closed her eyes after her arrival to Tokyo 3, afraid she'd see Shinji's wounded torso in her dreams. _Gran Reserva, huh? So you like the strong shit, but the good shit, huh, Shinji? _Temptation was running wild in her overtired brain; there were so many substances to choose from in the small living space, so many options to shut off the fear, the memories and the anxiety, yet she stubbornly held onto alcohol. _A junkie can't help another junkie to lay off the stuff, _another large gulp cascaded down her throat, this time she swallowed down the bitterness instead of spitting it out. _If you plan on helping, Sohryu, you'll have to stay clean. For good. Help him get clean. Just… help him… for once…_

There was no evidence whatsoever to support the theory or a woman, or women, visiting the young man's flat; there were no forgotten or discarded shirts, undergarments, a strand of hair or the whiff of a perfume. It made her feel all the more dirty; perhaps, once he realized what she had been doing, the disgust in his eyes would be true and his hatred for her would be complete. She was prepared for such a scenario, as well.

As expected of Shinji, the living space was limited, and spotless, with every little thing having its place and collecting only the dust from the past five days. She had glanced around his room, dining area, kitchen, and the miniature space with a TV and a couch. There were close to no pictures nor decorations; a nicely-decorated picture of Misato, Kaji and their baby girl, a picture of them as pilots in their plug suits so long ago, one of Rei which rested by his nightstand, one depicting him smiling awkwardly at the camera while he held some sort of award, and what she assumed were his working partners clapped him in the back rested in his dining area.

There was a picture of her, as well. She had no clue who had taken it, or at which point in time between resurfacing from the Ocean and leaving Japan, but it was of her younger years. She was wearing a sleeveless shirt which left the line on her arm evident, her hair was loose, and she was looking at nothing in particular. In the frame she looked… at ease, almost pretty despite the redness of one eye and the scar above her eyebrow. Even at the current year, her birthday was marked with vibrant red in Shinji's calendar.

For years she had ignored the calls, the gifts, and the shouts for help. Years; the word felt heavy and made her tongue leathery, years. Anybody's help would do, Shinji was just that much of a cowardly weasel, he'd grovel on the feet on any one person to acquire the slightest taste of human attention, desperate to have people acknowledge his existence and love anyone so long as they loved him in the slightest in return. For him, anybody would do; he had just opted to ask her in that particular moment because she was there, not because he held onto a particular desire to be helped by her at all.

_Genius, aye? _She emptied the bottle and, without reprieve, threw it to the ground and enjoyed the sound of glass breaking. _Everybody tried, literally fucking __**everybody**__, Sohryu. Everyone tried to help him. Misato almost drowned herself in coffee trying to keep taps on him, Kaji came to the point of beating Shinji up from frustration and almost got himself killed. Makoto, Shigeru, Maya… Touji, Kensuke. _A shard of broken glass ever so slowly penetrated the walls of her damaged heart, making an old would reopen with fervor. _Hikari…_

Shinji and Hikari had dated very briefly a few years prior to the _incident_. Just nigh on his second month of sobriety and after Touji and the brown-haired girl had had a temporary breakup, the two shy teens had started seeing each other. It made the blood in her veins boil, to think Hikari of all people had already kissed him, and all she had done was steal one of his rum bottles. Regardless, there was no jealousy in her heart, especially none towards her once best friend; Shinji's relapse had been nothing short of terrifying, according to the former Class Rep. While the boy had never so much as touched one of Hikari's locks, he had trashed his entire apartment on December the 6th, threatened to open the girl up from neck to groin with a knife if she did not leave his sight in that instant, and had proceeded to consume enough drugs to have him in the ER not two hours afterwards.

The walls inside the boy's room were scratched, damaged, with clear evidence of violence all around, and despite the fresh paint and clear efforts to discreetly mask the entry points of a knife, knuckles and God knew what else, they clear to her trained eye. She had, after, all, done her fair share of redecorating in her own empty, cold house.

Everybody had tried to help, none had made a difference. So why, why on God's green Earth did she believe she could? _I can't… stand it. I can't, not anymore. I'm done with it. I've been done with it since last year, and I've been giving myself shit excuses to keep being a coward. _Living by herself, pretending the War had not happened, taking pills to sleep at night, sleeping around with random men an having them defile her, if only to forget. There were so many wounds left open since she'd left, so many lacerations which had long since grown infected and festered. Never had she asked why Shinji had tried to strangle her, never had she asked why had saved her life without a second thought. She had never even asked him why he bothered with the presents at all; she had never asked him anything about _anything_.

_**Let it be**_**, **the voice whispered, laughing with childish mirth_. __**Let him rot. It's what we wanted, right? Right?! Let him rot! What are even doing here, in this degenerate's house?! You might as well trash it, it's not like he'll care, or notice, given how he's high off mind all the freaking time! Let's go, let's leave! Let's go back home, back to where it doesn't hu-**_

"Shut up," she whispered in the dark, eyes shut tight and hands pressing against her ears. "Shut up, already. You don't run things, anymore. I do, and I will stay here and save him, no matter what." Laughter so much like the one she had hurled in Shinji's direction many a time reverberated inside her skull; she had laughed at him that one time when he had admitted he liked her, as in more than friend, laughed to his face, sneered, slapped him and walked away. _**Right, because he needs your help, and no one else's? **_She nodded absently, hugging knees to her chest. Alone in the balcony with nothing short of the city's muffled sounds in the night, she felt very cold, and very much alone. _**You don't know him anymore. Shinji… your Shinji… is dead. Dead. DEAD. You killed him, Asuka-chan. Remember that, when you left? When you left him to die without a care in the world? How you spent two years without even answering a call? He's dead. You're trying to save a corpse. **_

"Maybe," she responded with a glint of silent determination in her undertone. What had she been before, if not a walking corpse? Had he not breathed life into her, when he had pushed her out of the way and gotten shot, stabbed and pummeled to the ground for his trouble?! Whatever light there was left in his eyes, it had died that day as she walked off and he bled, lying on that broken table and wheezing out her name, because he had given it to _her_.

There had been a sliver there, in his eye, however. Resentment, hatred, and rage had come to greet her like an old friend. A very strange experience it had been, to stare deep into his orbs and see herself. Beneath the rage, she had caught a glimpse of guilt, pain, and so much guilt, so much of it the very memory felt like a blow to the head. Shinji was still alive, somewhere, deep down inside the dead stare of the man who lay in the hospital. "And on my name, on my honor as Sohryu Asuka Langley," she slurred half-asleep while her feet dragged her down to his bed. "I'll save you… you'll see…"

She did not lie on his bed, but instead tripped on it and fell heavily on the mattress. Had the bed not been placed exactly where she fell, Asuka would have most likely cracked her skull on the floor. She inhaled deeply, filling her nostrils with his scent for the first time in seven years, and allowed the alcohol and exhaustion to lull her into a dreamless slumber. How she had missed this scent… it crawled all over her dosed mind, engulfing the flame of anxiety and extinguishing it with a wave of calmness. Unbeknown to her, the redhead smiled in her sleep.

_Home. _

TBC…

* * *

_AN: I… don't know what this is. Is this a story? No clue. A one-shot? No way. I don't even know if it's any good, or if it's going anywhere, but… it's there. It's in my brain, growing. Should it see other chapters, they too will in some way be inspired by Eminem's album Relapse, at the very least the title of each chapter and a tiny portion of the plot. Let me know, honestly, what you think of this! Should it continue? Should it be erased at once? Should it be worked on? Let me know!_

_I repeat, I have **no** idea where this came from, nor how it originated in my brain. It just did, it's not a sequel to Scar Tissue, nor is it related to ST in any way whatsoever. Just… popped into my head. R&R, my dear friends! Thank you for reading! I have half a mind to erase it, so if it's too similar to ST, tell me and it'llbe a goner.  
_

PEACE.


	2. My Mom

_AN: I know, I know! What it is with me and causing Shinji lung trauma every freaking time, huh? Ah, call it a subconscious desire to kick his ass, goes back to my childhood! Anyway. __  
_

_Another one of these happened! Yeah… this is the thing, now. Welcome to the world, Relapse! Again, I have no clue of where this story will go, my friends. It'll be preeeeeetty dark, though. Yeah. Mature subjects and stuff, but with constant care for Canon behavior. I will be limiting the cursing to absolute necessary moments! As always, I own nothing.  
_

_Now tell me, what kind of mother would want to see her  
Son grow up to be an undera-fuckin'-chiever?_

_(Stop. Forward. Stop. Play)_

_Man, I never thought that I could ever be  
A drug addict, naw, fuck that, I can't have it happen to me  
But that's actually what has ended up happening  
A tragedy, the fucking past ended up catching me  
And it's probably where I got acquainted with the taste, ain't it?  
Pharmaceuticals are the bomb, Mom, beautiful-_

_(Stop)_

* * *

Chapter Two: My Mom

The stench of antiseptic brought him back to a certain memory, one which had also occurred in a hospital room not too different from the one he was trapped in. Stirring in his sleep, the bandaged young man twitched, frowning deeply as the overwhelming helplessness and despair from the moments before Third Impact washed over him yet again. He felt the fourteen-year-old boy hesitantly make his way to the bed where the redhead slept, deep in a self-induced coma, and felt the need to retch when the boy's dirty, unworthy hand took a hold of a slim, delicate shoulder and shook it with desperation.

It felt like being a witness to a never-ending movie, with the emotions of the main character channeling through him without reprieve. For more than six years every attempt to shut the images out had failed, so the man relinquished the struggle and let himself be reminded once more of the many sins he had committed. He felt the slimy, slippery substance burning the skin of his palm as vividly as the needle pressed under his bicep. Third Impact was looming around the corner, so Shinji twitched in his sleep, huffing through the pain in his midsection in a subconscious attempt to rouse before the worst began.

The Spear came down anyhow, despite the faint sensation of blades pressed against his insides, it descended and split his arm in half. The sting of the stab wound in his stomach disappeared under the recalling of those dead fingers reaching into his belly and taking out his entrails. He trashed harder against the bedding, jaw hinged closed and frown morphing into painful grimace. His head spun left and right just as the scene changed to one far from the battle, where he could watch in exquisite detail as Unit 02 was torn to pieces. He was pushed back into his own body to recall how Bakelite of all things had been the last nail on his coffin, and soon the Grand Overture washed over.

Shinji screamed as loud as possible, which in his depleted state came out as a frightened gasp and half a cough. Chest heaving, sweat rolling down his face, the man tried to sit up and had his arms fail him yet again. The wound on his back flared and forced another gasp out his dried lips, the one in his leg complained and burned when his body twitched; yes, wihtdrawal was beginning to set with a vengeance after six days of nothing but sedatives and a bit of morphine being pumped into his venis every now and then.

"Ah…" he spoke to nobody, relishing in the fact that for once ever since waking in the hospital room, he was alone. The redhead had not returned, not even to inspect her grand work in his wounds or to ridicule him in some original form. "Another four days of this crap and I'll be free…"

"_She'll be staying with you for the foreseeable future." _

The horror from the dream and relative calmness of the empty room quickly succumbed to a familiar scalding sensation in the pit of the former Third Child's stomach; Misato's dry statement came to greet his severely damaged short term memory. "God damn you all…" he muttered with annoyance. It was better if he simply enjoyed the relative silence of the very wee hours of the morning, before the nurse brought up his meager breakfast and the wounds were redressed and cleaned.

"They can't do this to me. I'm a god damned adult, they can't just cram me up with some girl just because...(cough)…" The sentence Lilith had erected was evolving, he noticed, so as to extract every last bit of delicious despair off his dying heart before the final hour came. As it stood, there was truly very little he could do about the current situation.

"_You're on parole, remember, Shin-chan? From that last poor bastard whose teeth you smashed, and the four offenses before that. Also, I can have you on house arrest quicker than a cicada sings. Asuka just happens to be __**both**__ a licensed physician and a licensed psychiatrist, __**and**__ she accepted the task of taking care of you until those wounds close up nice and permanently, since no nurse in her right mind would take __**you**__ as a patient. So! Suck it up, honey! Unless of course you'd rather go to jail, where I highly doubt they'll even give you methadone when you start shaking and foaming through your mouth. But, of course, you're an adult, so feel free to choose between options A and B." _

Wishing for nothing more than the strength to rise from bed and smash his fist into the wall, Shinji disregarded the way the beeps and other sounds around him escalated to a crescendo and rose to relieve himself. He forced uncooperative legs to function, swallowed down the agony his left leg gave him upon laying the slightest weight on said limb, and took a hold of a crutch that stood a few feet away, resting on the night-stand. "God damn Misato and her stupid influence…(cough)… I'll show them… I'll show them the stupidity of their mistake… They'll be asking themselves...(cough)... why they even bothered in a few days..."

Prison was not scary in the slightest to him, it anything it was a clear, quick death sentence which would erase his existence after the second night or something. Sure, they'd probably rape him before the murder began, have their fun with the mighty Third Child until he was bleeding out every pore and hole in his body. The only problem with prison was the lengths he'd have to through if only to acquire some coke or a few pills to numb out the visions before some prisoner with a grudge stabbed him twenty seven times with a shiv.

He almost tripped and fell twice on his way to the bathroom, so engrossed was he in designing and brewing what would probably be the sharpest lines and insults he had yet come up with, that he almost banged his head against the wall instead of taking the proper route to the toilet. Another tremor shook him so hard that the young man actually lost balance and frantically clasped a hand down the support tube, feeling the stitches on his back stretch out and complain.

"Heh…" panted the brown-haired youth with fresh perspiration coming off his clammy skin. "I really… (cough)… need to get back to running… (pant)… but I'll be damned if another brute has to come in here… (pant)… and help me… take a piss." Balancing the injured left side on the crutch and holding onto the IV with his right, Shinji released his bladder and exhaled in relief, unbothered by the crimson tinge in his urine. _Yeah, whatever. There's blood in my piss, what else is new? _

Numerous body shots in the many street fights he'd had, stab wounds and kicks had familiarized him with the notion of internal bleeding much more than Asuka's little temper tantrum had. "Pff, apologizing for such a stupid thing…" He shook his head in derision. "What sort of messed-up revenge is she plotting…?" In his mind, the simple, innocuous push which had resulted in him falling a considerable height and cracking a perfectly good table in half with the disgrace he called a body was but a simple knee-jerk reaction. He was absolutely convinced that Asuka was in Japan to enact some form of poetic justice against him, even if that meant watching as he groveled at her feet under the effects of heavy abstinence.

"As far as I can remember," he mumbled to nobody in particular while wobbling back to bed. "I hadn't even mustered up the courage to hold her hand back then… (cough)… and then all of the sudden a car comes rushing straight to us… and she's just standing there, waiting to be run over…" The sting of the slashes in his muscle tissue flared with renewed vigor when his body hit the mattress. "What else was I supposed to do, let her die? Shit, I already did that… and it's not like she needed… (cough)… any help from me, anyways…"

Considering the horrors his father had perpetrated on his own flesh and blood, the terrible truth behind Rei's origin and upbringing, the crushing loneliness of his childhood and the blunt, twisted events of the Angel War and Third Impact, Shinji found Asuka's outburst… cute. The level of self-control the girl had demonstrated as he followed her around like a deranged puppy and tried in vain to apologize for _leaving her to die _and _trying to kill her twice_ had left him dumbfounded. She despised him, and yet was willing to acknowledge his existence, even after all the horrible things she knew he had done. It was only a matter of time before she snapped, and it wasn't like she had done some unforgivable, horrendous act like say, used his unconscious body to please herself.

She had simply pushed him away, and poof… down he went like a sack of potatoes.

She was here, now. In Japan, not far from the stupid hospital. She had cleaned his wounds, assessed them, redressed them and said she'd save him. His wounds; she had touched his body, she had touched _him_. A hand gingerly felt around the puncture wound in his abdomen, but the sensation in his chest was far from pleasant. "Save me, huh…" The irrationality of such a statement alone baffled him, the serenity of her face as she said it infuriated him, and the security and self-confidence which shone in her blue eyes made him feel useless and pathetic. What he hated the most, however, was how a part of him, the annoying little brat who never shut up and should by all means be dead, blindly believed her.

His teeth chattered, and in a second he felt hot and cold all at once. "I hate hospitals…" the young man mumbled, surrendering to the small tremors. There were no pills in the vicinity, no weed, no booze to slip away into the bliss of alcohol-induced sleep, only the little bit of morphine still coursing through his bloodstream and the fact that his body had long since gotten used to chemicals. Most of the junkies he spoke with told him withdrawal was the worst torture in the world; he normally laughed at such a statement. To the former Third Child, Mass Murderer Extraordinaire, the sensation of his own blood boiling inside, the tremors and nightmares, the shaking, the sweats, the desperation and the itching of his very cells was a welcomed change to everyday life. Not that withdrawal was any fun, either. Moments of withdrawal, somewhere between the shaking and the fevers, were… when she visited the most.

"I _really_ hate hospitals…"

Twice he had gotten clean and twice had he chosen to fall back into the abyss. There had been no particular trigger either time, simply the realization that neither Asuka nor Rei were coming back, that he was indeed the lowest of the low, and a genocidal monster at that, and that staying sober for another minute was unnecessary. Just like his drinking or substance abuse, there was no true rigid reason behind it. It was the opposite; there were too many events, too many bad days which had laid down the path towards addiction where he currently threaded. Sobriety was a waste of time, now that he was convinced Rei would never come back, having reached adulthood without friends, peers, a girlfriend or something more intimate than work partners. Life was… empty, and painful, filled with sorrow and disappointment. The elder he grew, the more books he read, the more he studied and the more drugs he did, Shinji realized just how alone he truly was, and how powerless he felt towards his own mundane situation.

He didn't even have a pet. Aside from a collection of small plants, some exotic cactus he had found over the years, the booze, the pills, the coke, there was… nothing else. Oh, the memories, the memories were also there. The power, so great and bright, given to him by Rei, and the woman who slept so comfortably in Unit 01's core, came with a cost after all. What was the sanity of one man when compared to the collective lives of humanity, after all?

"I blame you, Mother," he admitted to the darkness, chuckling. "Or at least, I did. I guess maturing has made me understand that at some point, you're responsible for your own stupidity." Of all the truths and epiphanies Third Impact and Instrumentality had shown him, the one which bothered him the most was the fact that his mother was a lying bitch, and that she was tremendously far away in a tin can where his hands could never reach to strangle her.

"_Anywhere can be paradise as long as you have the will to live." _

He hated the sound of the woman's voice, detested the memory of her face, and found it ironic and infuriating; a face he had so long sought to remember now came to him with ease, and with it came the sour taste of hatred and the familiar sting of betrayal. "Anywhere, huh, Mother?" He demanded to the ceiling with faint mirth, barking a false laugh. Unit 01 was currently floating around Jupiter's orbit according to the newspaper. How long still, until the thrice-damned robot floated in the Sun's gravitational field and got roasted like a cinder? "I hope I could see the look on your face, if you saw just how much I'm enjoying your little paradise," he spat, scowling. "I'd love to see those eyes of yours, when you see your son the good-for-nothing junkie. I bet you'd be proud, heh… (cough)… I bet Father's loving this…"

He had a job in which he excelled, a job that paid just about enough to cover the expenses and the substances he adored. Work was more of a therapy to him; so long as orders were flying in the small restaurant and his attention was focused on making even the simplest dishes taste amazing, the itches would dissipate and the anxiety had an outlet and a use. The young man made honest money and did not indulge in crimes, or social gatherings. He enjoyed the canteens precisely because people left him alone to get pitch black drunk, and only got in trouble when an ignorant shit said something he'd later regret. Working late hours from morning to dusk meant more money, which in turn meant more drugs and less time available, so as to not lie and make up constant excuses to the workers around him.

There was no escaping the flashes sometimes, though. On rare occasions when he forgot this pill or the other, when he rose late and forgot the morning joint to mellow out, the green Devil would knock on the door of his frail sanity, the visage of Unit 02's mangled body flashed, the pots where his food was being cooked became entrails, blood would dribble off the sink and he'd excuse himself, hands shaking, to go out the corner and chug down a beer, a few pills or smoke five cigarettes in a row.

"_Who do you think is worse, Shinji?" _ The psychiatrist's voice echoed in his brain just as the itching on his scalp began. The visions were soon to make an appearance. _"Your mother, or your father? Towards whom would you say the worst feelings… gravitate? Is it Gendou, the man who abandoned you? Or is it Yui?" _

_What a stupid fucking question, _he responded. A giggle came from somewhere in the room, something moved on the corner of his eye; the dreaded episode had begun, and without any of his reliable substances to help him cope, Shinji felt panic begin to crawl up his spine and freeze his guts. _It's Yui, you stupid cunt. What do you think? At least I got to take some level of revenge on my father, but that woman… that woman…_

The giggling gained volume and soon enough, just like he expected, the torn-out figure made its way to his bed, laying on the white sheets and quickly staining them crimson. The apparition crooked its head to the side, bones screeching against each other, and the pale brown hair shook violently as the corpse stared at him. He sighed, unimpressed. "Hello, Mother. Come to gloat, I suppose?"

_No wonder_, he deadpanned with grim realization when the sound of steps reverberated through his empty room. No pills meant there was no form of escaping the twisted creations of his broken mind; there was no running away that night. _For even Satan disguises himself as the Angel of Light. _

"_My sweet baby," _the zombified creature croaked in return; a hand so rotten that bone was visible above the knuckles ruffled his hair with tenderness. _"How's my baby boy? Enjoying paradise, my dearest?" _

Even when his body was shaking and breathing became difficult due to the intense dread, he feigned nonchalance and shrugged. "You bet I am… (cough)… I had a hell of a party a few days ago. You see this?" Pointing at the fading marks on his face, Shinji blatantly ignored how the corpse's blood was warm against his skin, how the crooked smile on the rotting face was so wide it split the dried, leathery skin apart. "You should see the other guys, I really beat them to the dirt."

The pair of feet marched over to his bedroom as the remaining half of Ikari Gendou made itself known. _"Well, that is good for you, Shinji." _There was no head, no upper body, only a pair of crushed legs, some innards hanging out in a grotesque spectacle, and a piece of spinal column where Unit 01's fangs had bitten down.

"Oh great, great," muttered the injured patient, glancing in between the two apparitions and the door. "We have the entire Club of the Pathetic attending another meeting. Splendid. Who wants to share first, huh?"

Ikari Yui smiled wider, forcing blackish blood to tickle down the corners of her cheeks.

"_Oh, my dear boy. Always with that sarcasm... Who do even get that from? No, no, shhh," _He tried to rise towards the door, but the decomposing hand was pressed flush on his chest and dragged him back to the mattress. "_You must be tired," _The figure grabbed his face with its bony, frozen hold dripping _warm_ blood, and placed a sloppy kiss in his forehead. He could _smell_ the rancid stench of decomposition; _feel_ the tattered lab coat come in contact with his skin and taste bile in his mouth when the figure bled on him.

"_Why don't you go to sleep, Shinji-kun? I believe sleep to be essential for a growing, healing boy. Here," _His eyes widened, tremors increasing in frequency and violence as some form of syringe materialized in the corpse's hold. The syring held a dark, thick liquid inside, one he easily recognized. Black Tar Heroin; the stuff he had consumed two years before, after the incident. _"Let your Mom take care of this… it's just a little sedative, nothing to worry about my dear… just a little sting and then it'll all go away, my child."_

"_Obey your mother," _The bottom half of Ikari Gendou added. _"Be a good boy now, Shinji." _ Every now and then blood would cascade down the man's half-devoured torso, while the ragged clothes of Ikari Yui's corpse continued to dye in crimson seemingly out of nowhere. The skin on the figure had a yellow, dried up tinge to it; the cheekbones were visible through the emaciated state of the corpse, with a grand laceration on the left side which allowed him to see bone near the jaw. Even covered in rags, the bones protruded from the clothes, visible and grotesque, and while the graying brown strands managed to obscure most of its face, Shinji could clearly see the gleam beneath the damaged eye sockets.

Green eyes, the only part of the apparition which was not in the process of rotting away, stared at him with fondness. The very tinge of his mother's eye color made him sick to his battered stomach, and the fear the creature brought in him paralyzed the muscles of his body with frightening efficiency.

"It's all in my head," the young man said to nobody. "It's all in my head. It's all in my head, It's all in my he-"

The act of forced bravery shattered with the familiar sting of a needle pressed against the veins of his right forearm, forcing the youth's eyes to widen in absolute horror, only to shut forcefully a second afterwards. _Not real, not real, not real, not real, not real. They are not real, Shinji. You're in a hospital, you're injured, you're a junkie and you're going through withdrawal. This is an illusion, and there's no way in hell that's an actual syr- _The well-known burn of heroin as it flooded his veins halted the train of thought and forced frightened blue orbs to the place where the liquid was slowly disappearing. _No, no, no. It's not real, Shinji, it's not, it's not, it's not it-_

"_Sh, sh, shhh, calm down, sweetie. We don't want you to hurt yourself again, do we? It's just the black stuff, the Mexican one. Remember, that's one of your favorites, right? That's the one you took after that day two years ago, isn't it? Here…" _His muscles began to cramp up from the consistent, involuntary shaking, the wounds slowly started suppurating under the tension and his head turned foggy. He was being drawn back to the Abyss, drawn back by the woman he so detested and dreaded. _"Don't worry, my sweet boy. Mommy's gonna take care of you, tonight. Just so you don't forget, Shinji-kun. Sometimes, when you're so high you drool over yourself, you forget, don't you, honey? Just for a tiny, itty-bitty while, but you __**forget**__."_

The pain combined with the erratic breathing kept him from being able to close his eyes; not that it made any difference at all if he managed to close the unresponsive lids. Closing his eyes only made matters worse, for even closed he felt the creature's rotten breath caress his ear as it lay down next to him, holding him as a mother would its child. _"You can't forget where you are, baby. That's not mature. Now, be a good boy and tell Mom where you are." _

Blood had dribbled, no, _flowed_ down Asuka's eye after the spear had pierced the cornea and exploded the socket in one fluid motion, the way her arm had been split in half so easily, so effortlessly had been nothing short of poetic, and blindingly painful. She had been awake, aware of her surroundings even after the final spear pierced through armor, flesh and bone, she had been awake while the vultures ripped out her arms, legs, innards, and fed on them. Flamethrowers were hardly something one could disregard, especially the sensation of bone, actual _bone_ melting clean off the limb and dripping down what had once been his arm.

The pieces of Unit 02 had been scattered or eaten, and he felt it, he felt his own teeth dig deep into the Titan's flesh and rip out chunks of Asuka's body to devour. His teeth, his hands, being used to disembowel and impale her, used to rip out her legs, arms, torso and gnaw on them like a starving hyena; the sensation returned as though it had happened the day before. The faint snap of a windpipe as it was crushed under his fingertips came to greet him like an old friend; the feeling of his inner organs cooking while the 5th Angel drilled a beam into his chest enveloped him like a blanket. His arm was cut off like the slice of an apple when Zeruel expanded its At-Field. Kaworu's body felt like wet paste, even through the armor, even through the Plug-Suit. Wet paste; he had turned his last friend into wet paste, for nothing.

Oh, there was no drug strong enough to make Shinji forget exactly where he was. He glared into the decomposing figure, even as the nonexistent substance carried him off to the torture chamber and terror overcame his limited awareness. "I'm in Hell, Mother." He answered at last; a triumphant sensation forced a tiny smile to his lips just before he slipped into te nightmare. "And so are you."

"_That's my smart, sweet little boy," _cooed the corpse with the loveliest tone of voice, ruffling his hair again. _"Let's go then, Shinji-kun. Time to make you __**scream**__." _

Three hours later, just as Akane was opening the door to carry the Third Child's breakfast into the hospital room and the sun started to filter through the drapes, the sound that crashed against her awareness made the experienced nurse drop the trey into the ground in shock and rush to the patient's side without a second thought. The young man was up in his bed, panting with clear difficulty as the apposite in his abdomen ever so slowly got tainted by a faint crimson mark. Eyes frantic, wide and full of a terror Akane could not hope to fathom, the patient sat and responded not a word to the constant questioning of the nurse. She felt relieved, oh so very, very much relieved that the release day on her patient was drawing near. The eyes of that man… even with his charm and attractive appearance, the cold glint in his dark blue eyes drew a shudder down her spine.

That morning, however, his eyes had not been cold and collected, which made Akane all the more thankful to be soon rid off the burden called Ikari Shinji. That morning the patient had howled as loud as the wounds all over his body had allowed; it was a sound the nurse would be happy to never hear again, a revolting screech which emanated as sanity was cracked like an eggshell.

Mother always managed to make him scream, after all. _Always_.

* * *

_The sound of the dial as the call went through made her heart beat twice as fast. She glared at the wall, resolute in her decision and pretended to ignore the feint shaking of her hands. Today was the day; no more hiding, no more running, enough time had passed and now she was ready for it; hence, she was calling. Why would a simple phone call put her on such high alert, anyhow? There was nothing to fear, her father had ensured her no legal actions could be taken with her in German soil, and no matter how hard Misato tried, no assassin she sent was good enough to crawl through her country and shoot her. _

_The dial kept ringing, unanswered, and her breathing became erratic. What if he… what if he was with a woman, at this exact point in time? What if he had finally moved on and was on a date with a girl much prettier, and much gentler than her? What would she do or say if a foreign voice she did not know picked up? Insecurity and indecisiveness had always been two emotions she refused to acknowledge, which in turn had affected her behavior in a subconscious level. Regardless of how strongly she repeated to all who would listen that the fate of the Third Child was indifferent to her, the uncertainty stifled her at times, the idea of him being with another girl, any girl was sufficient to ignite a flame of envy in her chest. If Shinji had already moved on she'd have to accept it, respect it as he had respected her flight. _

_Not that he had not tried to reach Germany; the boy had been stopped by NERV Germany's agents a mere five miles away from her house only two years after she left. He had not intended to see her, the agents had explained later to her father; Shinji had only wished to deliver a small package in person, to her house, just to be sure she received it. _

_Her hand grasped the phone with more force than necessary. Today was the day. There was no better time than the current one; she was healthy and clear-headed and had laid the demons of her disastrous relationship with her father to rest. She was great, the Greatest. She was strong, so strong, and so confident in her abilities. She was the person he had always envisioned, and now she was ready. He was not with some woman; he was waiting for her, praying for her. That was the reason behind the boxes, right? He was hers. There was no way in Hell a simple, god damned phone call would stop her from doing what she wanted to do, even when it was something and menial as seeing h-_

"_Hello, Ikari residence," the grate sprung off the plastic device and shocker her still, freezing the girl's body instantly. "Hello," he repeated, clearly either half-asleep or… worse. "Ikari residence. Who is this? Hello?" All of her carefully elaborated greetings, from nonchalant to somewhat shy, from angry to cheery, disappeared in the seconds it had taken Shinji to speak; she was frozen in place, unaware that she was not even breathing anymore. "Hello? Is this some sort of prank? Hellooo." _

_The line went dead, and Asuka's knees buckled underneath her. _

_She stared at the object dejectedly for a long time, listening to the constant beep-beep-beep, seconds turning into minutes while another day slipped right off her fingers. "Heh…" she muttered, her free hand rose up and clutched into a fist on her chest. "I guess in the end we're both wimps after all, Baka…" There was a new addition to the small boxes she continued to collect, a new gift. "No, that's wrong. At least you have the courage to call. You even came here, knowing they wouldn't let you close to my house." She kept speaking to the phone and pretended Shinji was on the other side of the line, listening. _

_No, Asuka, don't say such things about yourself, he'd surely answer something along those lines. "What? It's the truth, all the time I gave you crap for being a doormat and a wimp, and look at me," her hands trembled slightly, her eyes were cloudy and stung, her cheeks were stained as the mascara ran down with the tears. "Are you okay, you idiot?" she whispered forcefully to the dead line. "Are you eating well? Are you healthy? D… Do you still cook? Are you… using?" Curse her blurred vision and the useless tears dripping down her chin, curse her uselessness. "Are you okay?" Asuka repeated, much quieter this time. "I miss you…" _

_The silence stretched out just as midday passed, the birds chirped, the wind blew, and Shinji remained unaware that she had tried and failed, again. The cold hand of fate constricted her heart to a point where it physically hurt. God, she missed him. She missed… just seeing him there, staring at nothing. She missed speaking to him, even if it was just to call him an idiot. She just… missed him. _

"_**Yes, I'm sure you do, Schatz," **_

_Her head whipped towards the hallways from which the voice had sprung out. She was in her house, kneeling pathetically in the large, empty main hall and it was the middle of the day, so there was no way the hallway would be so dark. Aside from that, she was currently relieving a memory, not a nightmare. _

"_**Now, Asuka dear. Let's not make Mama wait, come here darling. I have something for you, Schätzling." **_

_Her legs responded without consent, eyes wide as saucers and skin pale as milk, and pushed her towards the voice. Her breathing constricted, the hairs on her nape and arms stood to no end, her skin filled with gooseflesh and her knees shook. Despite every instinct telling her to run for the hills and/or get her gun from the closet, nonetheless, the redhead's body became engulfed by darkness and continued to walk. It dawned on her that she was walking towards her step-mother's old room, so confusion slowly crawled back into a deeply frightened mind. _

_She dreaded that woman. _

_As expected, once she opened the door the stench of death hit her full in the face, with the constant sound of the rope dangling ever so slightly deafened her sense of hearing. The ever-present eerie smirk welcomed her in the empty space, the blotted, blue skin around the face shone as bright as she recalled from so long ago. The stupid doll was always there, as well._

"_**Is something the matter, Schatz? I thought you'd call that boy today." **__The broken neck bones scraped against one another when the ghost of Kyoko stole a glance at her daughter and two pairs of blue eyes met. __**"Did you have second thoughts again, dear? It's okay, you'll go about it someday." **_

"_I heard him," she replied. God, she sounded pathetic, weak and small in the presence of this inhuman apparition. "I... didn't hang up this time," admitted the former Second Child with the closest she ever came to shame. "He picked up the phone, and I heard his voice." _

_Once more, the dreadful echo of bones moving un unnatural ways sent a shiver down her spine. Her mother blinked, smile widening. __**"Now then, darling, that's progress! I'm so proud of you, honey! I knew you could take that step forward! Not that it didn't take you **__**four**__** years!" **_

_For whatever reason the girl felt scolded, so she lowered her head and nodded absently."I know. It's stupid, but… I'm worried. He… he didn't sound very healthy." The tone of that grate she had heard had been so sweetly familiar and so foreign all at once. His voice had changed, roughened up to such a degree it was difficult to remember how he'd sounded as a teenager, yet it irremediably remained as his, so familiar it hurt. He sounded… tired, exhausted. "I think…" she gulped, pinched herself four times and shook her head, to no avail. Mother was still staring, still smiling. "I think I'm going crazy without him." _

"_**Now, now, sweetheart. Let's not overreact over some poor little boy from your p-**_

"_Asuka?" _

_She blinked slowly, as if waking from a dream, and turned back to see her father staring at her with a raised eyebrow and an aura of mild concern. "Are you okay? Who were you talking to, just now?" _

_She shook her head, breathing in deep and realizing she was seeing this apparition and speaking to her very alive father at the same time. "No, I was just… thinking out loud… about some stuff," she answered. A single cerulean orb addressed her father with anger shining through. "Did you manage to get the names I requested, Papa?" _

_The eldest Langley blinked in surprise, but otherwise made no move to near his daughter or enter the room. He did, however, notice how Asuka's eye kept jumping from him to the bed and back with frightening speed. "Ah, yes, of course." Producing a small piece of paper, Peter Langley finally took two steps in the girl's direction, yet did not dare set a foot in the room where he had so often slept with his latest dead wife. "Here you go. I still don't see why you needed the names of the security detail that was around the compound on your birthday."_

"_I just need to make sure of something," was all she answered, retrieving the piece of paper. The bones continued to crack as the dangling woman smiled crookedly at her from different positions. The stupid doll never stopped smiling, either; it felt as though they were laughing at her expense. Some time must have passed, for she jumped when her father's hand fell on her shoulder. _

"_Is something there, darling?" he asked, pretending to be worried for her. Boy, was his act good, she was half-inclined to believe him. "You've been staring at that wardrobe for a while." Shaking her head and shrugging off the man's hand off her, Asuka headed for the door and ignored how Mother waved goodbye and batted those blue eyes at her with glee and endless love. She needed some air. _

"_No," ground out the redhead. "There's nobody there."_

_Another day, another encounter with M-_

"MOTHERFUCKER!"

The knife clattered noisily when she threw it on the counter and nursed the small cut on her forefinger. It was ridiculous, every blade in the house had been honed to slice through vegetable, meat and bone to perfection, so much so that after only a millisecond of not paying attention while cutting the celery for her smoothie, the knife had already pushed past two layers of skin.

"Ah, careful now, Asuka. You're not in your luxurious mansion anymore, remember? You've got neighbors, now, and I bet they resent that vocabulary."

"Ah, go to hell, Katsuragi," she answered, and put the now bleeding finger under the faucet, hissing. "Damn it, how come this idiot has the time to sharpen every freaking knife he owns to such an extent?! I almost cut off half a finger!"

The woman who had been her guardian for a very limited time shrugged, more interested in her fingernails than in providing assistance to bleeding young lady in the kitchen. She sat in Shinji's small table while Asuka concocted one of her super healthy beverages and kept on cutting this and storing that in varied locations, clearly making herself comfortable in Shinji's home. "Well, he says sharpening the knives relaxes him," she elucidated. He looked young in that picture by the stand, Misato noticed, young and animated while his co-workers gave him the price for employee of the month. "He works cutting stuff all day, too, so I bet he hates a blade that's not sharpened."

"Yeah, tell me about it," shot the redhead with clear annoyance. She made quick work of a bandage, put on a plastic glove and continued with her task. Shinji would be released in two days, which meant she had enough time to prepare the kitchen, house and bed for a patient with severe wounds. "Speaking of sharp blades," she added with a flat tone. "The new serum I brought from Germany has had more than satisfactory results; the Baka's metabolism is working hard to keep up. His wounds are closing more than twice as fast as they normally would, and in these few days his blood work has shown no signs of infection."

"Ooooh, big words from Mrs. Doctor Sohryu!" The other woman shot back with a nasty undertone. There was still plenty animosity between them, as could be felt in the tension inside the small apartment. "Can you please elaborate a bit more in the language of us, mortals? Or have the three other degrees you got gone to your head, already, Mrs. Psychology Expert?"

"Oh, ha ha, so very funny," The fact that her former caretaker had not acted on her instinct of shooting the former Second Child on sight had surprised her at first. Then Misato had explained she was not _allowed_ to shoot her on sight, as per stated by the Ambassador, the German Prime Minister, The Emperor _and_ the Minister of the Interior. Not that any of those men and women could actually stop Misato from killing her, if the woman really wanted to. "I thought you'd be happy he's gonna make it, granted how on the verge of a mental breakdown you were when you called."

Misato shrugged once more, knowing that Asuka could not see her, and took another swig of the can. She had blamed herself for years believing her example as a derailed alcoholic had been the trigger to Shinji's current drinking problem, only that Shinji had not even bothered to look for a beer in his own damn house when he began. No, the brat had chosen to go out, get himself someone to buy whatever sort of foreign rocket fuel and proceed to chug down two six-packs by himself as a first drinking experience. The boy had managed a surprising eight cans before succumbing to unconsciousness outside the store where she'd found him.

She was currently nursing some Spanish piss named 'Keller' which seemed like the cheap sort but had a certain flavor to it that she enjoyed. "Well," The image of the blood-stained sheet where they had brought Shinji to the hospital came to mind, and Misato suppressed a shudder with a larger gulp. "You weren't there when they brought him in. There was blood everywhere, he was coughing up blood every time he tried to breathe…" A pair of brown orbs glared half-heartedly at the mass of red hair that so diligently worked preparing God knew what. "As a matter of fact," No matter how hard she tried, to her own dismay, the former Mayor could not hate the girl in front of her. She felt disappointed instead, and tired. So very, very tired. "As a matter of fact, you weren't there _at all_."

The continued chop-chop stopped cold, and this time not because the new house-chef had mistakenly cut another finger. Misato watched with a raised eyebrow as the woman's proud shoulders slumped somewhat, which ignited the pang of guilt in her heart. After seven years Asuka had returned, and she was _bullying_ her. "Look, I'm…" she sighed, ran a hand through her hair and chugged another drink. "I'm sorry, Asuka. I know I don't understand and I was the one who asked you to do thi-"

"No, you're right."

Misato blinked, twice, thrice. What? _What?_

"What?" She repeated, dumbfounded and convinced her mind was playing tricks, or that perhaps she had misunderstood.

"I said you're right. I wasn't… there. Here…ugh, you get my drift. I wasn't, I get that, trust me. I know… what I did. And I know you can't trust me because I almost… I almost killed him that one tim-"

"He laughs at that, you know," This time it was Misato who interrupted, managing to draw the woman's eyes in her direction for once. "When people ask him about it, he laughs. He calls your little stunt 'cute', a little outburst that was a long time coming, and says he expected nothing less. He says it was just a little push. Just a little push." The elder woman's eyes hardened. "Just a _little_ push, he says."

"Yeah," nodding with a stern, stony expression, Asuka turned back to her vegetables. "Just a little push that cost him 20% of lung tissue, a severe concussion, two broken ribs, internal bleeding, a dislocated shoulder and almost left him paralyzed from the waist down." She sliced through the carrot with more strength than necessary, digging the sharp blade deep into the cutting board's wood. "Just a little push that almost killed him. I don't find it funny at all."

"Go tell him that," the purple-haired female stretched, realizing she had lost the glaring contest miserably and also failed in spectacular fashion with her attempts to make Asuka feel remorseful or indisposed. The satisfying –click- of another can opening signaled her defeat, so she dipped the beer in the girl's general direction. "Prost, Frau Doctor."

"Yeah, Prost," she sighed, picked up the sliced carrots and threw them in the blender, pausing to get herself a Keller as well and taking a sip. "Ugh, what the hell _is_ this piss?"

"Spanish piss, honey," Misato took a long drink. It was almost five o'clock, almost time to go home and see her little girl waddle her feet to come greet Mama. "Shinji seems to like it. It's more of an… acquired taste, if you will."

"Acquired my ass," she grimaced, but swallowed down three more gulps in hopes that they would settle her aching head. She had slept better than… than ever as far as recent memory went, but the amount of alcohol her relatively petite body was processing had been a bit too much. "He buys expensive rum, vodka, whiskey and wine and he drinks _this_ for a beer? Jeez, he really is an idiot."

"And starting the day after tomorrow, my dearest Frau Doctor," this time, the former guardian's tone as playful and a bit animated, an old reminiscent of the teasing voice she'd used so long ago. "That idiot will be your responsibility! I do hope you understand what you're getting into, and I _really_ hope you're not biting off more than you can chew." Both women locked eyes, and Misato's gaze softened. "Are you sure you'll be okay, honey? Alone, with him? He's not the Shinji you remember. He can be really…(sigh)… really mean… when he wants to, Asuka."

"I can be really, really mean as well, Misato." The redhead's solemn response took her by surprise. "That doesn't mean he quit on me, ever. I can't quit on him, and I'll be alright. I know he won't hurt me." Then, she swallowed a lump of fear which manifested. The memory of the kitchen, his hands wrapping around her throat and squeezing with so much force as he sneered down at her whipped through the girl's mind. "…Will he?"

"Not a chance in the world," the woman's flat statement managed to make her release a breath she had not noticed she'd been holding. "See that dent, right there on the wall to your left?" The mark was almost invisible, but there was a slight depression in the wall's material. "He has… very bad episodes of Post-Traumatic Stress. One time, I… I triggered one of those episodes, and he got… _really_ mad. But he never touched me, he slammed his fist against that wall instead, then his head, he banged it so hard he knocked himself out."

Asuka nodded with what she assumed was medical understanding, and for all her worth Misato was unable to find a sliver of honest fear in her gaze. Both women sat down at opposite ends of the table, each with a beer can in hand. For a second a bit of uncertainty born out of past experiences had made itself know, but just as quickly as it had come, the girl had either suppressed or discarded it. "I see," commented the former pilot. "And does he have… visions? Hallucinations?"

"Sometimes, yes," Nodding grimly, she suppressed yet another shudder. Misato recalled watching her male charge stare into nothing in particular with a look of intense, absolute terror, with the white of his eyes visible and his breathing erratic, for more than fifteen minutes. "He never talks about them, or about his nightmares, though. No matter how you ask him, or how many times you repeat the question, he won't budge. The idiot just holds it all in, and then when it's getting close to the boiling point he goes and drinks himself to death."

"Yes, and in these nights is when he gets into fights and snorts coke, am I right?" Asuka added, and took a sip. The more she drank, the more the bitter taste grew on her.

"Right you are," confirming the girl's suspicions; Misato's eyes drew over to the kitchen window. Shinji had broken that window once, with his fist. "But he doesn't just do coke on those nights. Sometimes he has insomnia for days, and if he's too tired to work then he'll just keep doing lines until his body responds."

"Well, I'll have to careful around that white shit. It never leads to anything, in general chemical substance only ever manage to get you sicker." She sighed with a pang of sadness; Shinji truly held little to no regard to his own health and somehow managed to not only not die, but _be_ relatively healthy. His body was not withered, nor did it present any sign of deterioration aside from the many scars, and had he not been stabbed so savagely he would be in almost perfect physical condition. "You said he runs, and goes to a gym?"

"A boxing gym," Misato clarified, clicking her tongue. "Or… mixed martial arts. Whatever, the stupid sport where guys in swimsuits beat the living snot out of each other." There were a few gloves and some sporting equipment stored in Shinji's laundry room. Indeed, violence, he liked it nowadays. "He goes twice or thrice a week and gets pummeled to the ground by those monkeys." She hated Shinji's gym partners; they all loved to use their superior skills to beat up the mighty, famous Third Child and gain some sad sense of superiority over a broken, damaged young man. "Be careful around those brutes, I don't trust them."

"Copy that," A final drink, and the small yellow can was empty. Even when it was not Misato's beloved Yebisu at the very least the wrapping was similar. "Anything else I should be wary of?"

Brown eyes addressed the ceiling for a few moments and snapped back to her gaze in a flash. "Yeah," she nodded stiffly. "Don't ask him about that, you know. About two years ago. And if you want to spare yourself of a horrible experience, don't ask him about the people he… the people. It was all in self-defense, even the jury dismissed the case as soon as it came in, but…" Red eyes, gleaming, leering at her. Her boy, her sweet little boy gorging on a man's neck, bathed in blood. Misato shook her head. "Just save yourself some pain, trust me." After a quick glance at the clock, the woman rose from her seat. "I have to go, Asuka. Duty calls."

"Yeah, tell little Rei auntie Asuka sends her love," despite the current grimness of the situation, the image of that happy brown-haired child and her innocent smile drew a small smirk in the redhead's features. "I'd love to meet her, you know."

"My house is your house, Frau Doctor," While heading for the door, the purple-haired took a lasting glance at the young woman who so confidently sat on Shinji's table, waiting to help him of all things. The situation felt absurd in her head, but she was honestly out of options, grasping at straws and whatever help would be welcome. "Shinji doesn't buy it, and I know you don't either, but I do love you kids," her head bowed lightly. "Please, take care of him, Asuka. And of yourself, like you've been doing."

"I already told you, you slob," came the arrogant response, which managed to curve her lips upwards. "You don't need to worry about it, anymore. I'll deal with it. And whatever Shinji's told you when he's being… nasty, it's all just bullshit. You know it; you're the closest thing either of us had to an actual Mom, and he loves you." She mulled over the next words carefully, licking her lower lip. "He's just hurting a whole lot, has been for too long. Don't take any of those words seriously."

Misato visibly deflated upon hearing her last statement, and Asuka could have sworn she saw the woman's eyes turn glassy and unsteady. "Thanks, honey," she whispered with a finger on the door's button. "I really appreciate it. I'll call you tomorrow."

The door hissed open, hissed closed, and Asuka was alone in his house, again.

She rose from the seat and took a small stride through the living space of the former Third Child. He had a master bedroom where his bed and belongings were stored, but his house differed a bit from the typical Japanese flats. There were no paper doors, for starters; all of Shinji's doors were made of wood, and they all showed signs of some level of violence. The largest of them all led to his bedroom, and it seemed as though the heavy wooden object had been cracked off its hinges.

Crouching near the door, Asuka noticed marks of repair and nails which had been dug into the lower hinge where the metal structure had given away. The door itself was slightly bent in an unnatural angle but still functioned well enough. A guest room about the size of Shinji's own lay in perfect order, bed made and organized. It was most likely the cleanest part of the house, and Asuka nodded with grim understanding, envy and anger that it was the room Shinji continued to have prepared for Rei. The First Child had never returned, after all, and the sheer cleanliness and bleakness of the sleeping space was clearly inspired by the mysterious Ayanami.

_**Trash it, **_came the whisper from within. _**Trash this disgusting room made for the doll. Sure, he'll make a room for her, of course he'll have a room ready for her. Anything for little Rei-Rei, right? Just like when the Angels attacked; he went straight up to save her, didn't he? **_Asuka shook her head, clutching the handle with ire. "Shut up," she ground out and glared at the perfectly-made bed. Why did he have beds in the first place? What had ever happened to futons? "Shut up already." The door was closed with a bit more force than necessary. "Rei never came back. I was the one supposed to fight that Angel, and my Synch rate hit zero that day."

_**Yeah, and why did it hit zero, huh, Asuka-chan? **_The bathroom was clean as well, with no evidence of vomit or blood anywhere; it was a typical guy's bathroom with nothing more than the essential cleansing products, which she had already rearranged to accommodate her many beauty elements. _**Because he didn't move. He didn't hold you, he didn't help you. Why should you help him at all, huh? He's a pathetic waste of space. Look at him, drooling over the First for seven years, living life like a junkie. He's the same weak little boy, only older. There's nothing for you here, nothing but decadence, and death. **_

The balcony of Shinji's apartment, Asuka decided, was the nicest place in the entire living area. Located in the outskirts of the city, his apartment building looked over the mountains near Neo-Tokyo 02. He could watch both the sunrise and sunset from the position where the two small chairs and table were located. Even his ashtrays were spotless, showing no signs of roaches or cigarette butts anywhere. The breeze was fresh out there, as well. _**I wonder how many times that wimp has thought of jumping from here, **_the annoying yap of the starved dog in her gut provided. _**He's always looking for the easy way out, that wimp. Remember how he was groveling at our feet, crying out for help? And when we said No, off he went. **_Asuka's right hand shot up to her neck instantly, and she shuddered, frowning. "You keep bringing up the same old bullshit. I've had years to contemplate on why did what he did, I have all the necessary information to understand now, and I have the maturity to do something about it. So," she voiced out to the nothingness of the balcony. "Shut up for once."

Relentless, the red dog licked its fangs in anticipation. _**Don't pretend you're not angry. What was that think the shrink said? Oh, yeah. Don't deny your feeling, Asuka-chan, no matter how… dark… they may be. Admit it! **_The dog barked another barrage of laughter; it sounded so faint, so faint when it had once deafened her. _**You want your retribution!**_

"I want answers," she responded at last. The sunset was almost upon her, soon the first stars would make an appearance. It had been… years since the last time she had simply sat down and gazed at the stars. "And so does he. He'll get his answers, I'll get mine, and… and we'll get by, somehow." The packages had arrived that morning, every single one of them, and she had rented a small shed in the complex's first floor to keep them all safely hidden. The only thing she had taken was an old piece of paper stored away in special wrappings to prevent moisture or fungus from deteriorating the material. "This is what I want."

"_**Are you certain, Schätzling?" **_

She had relinquished the pills a year before, against the stupid shrink's recommendation and her useless father's own nonsensical advice. Sohryu Asuka Langley would stand on her own two damn feet, or not at all. "Mama," she replied with a dry undertone. "I'm sure."

The bones always scraped noisily, the noose seemed to tighten with every move the corpse made to rearrange its position. It now hung from the rain above Shinji's apartment, doll dangling obediently right next to it. _**"Truly?" **_The bony image of Kyoko shrugged and smiled even wider, blue orbs shining with the fading sun. _**"Are you sure you don't want to die with me, Schatz?" **_

Asuka huffed, shaking her head in disappointment. "Really? That poor, stupid line again? Jeez, now you just threw away the game on a technicality, Mama." With a knowing smile plastered on her face, she took in the different hues in the sky. "My mother wanted me to live and be happy, not to die hanging off a balcony in the middle of _this_ city of all places. That was made clear to me during Third Impact. So hook, line and sinker, Mother."

"_**You've gotten smarter," **_the corpse answered as it began to disappear. _**"Take care, sweetling. Mama loves you." **_

"I know she does," the girl nodded, and resisted the urge to spit on the ground. "She also killed herself in front of me and spoke to a doll for years." The stupid question the red dog had raised bounced back in her brain. "Of course he's thought of it, _suicide_. But if we were to compete on that regard, I'd take the gold, silver and bronze medals all at once. And I have my dear mother to thank for the marvelous example she set."

She recalled the sensation of the noose tightening against her neck that one time two years ago, recalled with frightening detail how for a second, she had been willing to let herself fall off the damn chair and let the rope do the rest. "I guess that's why I am like I am," the young woman shrugged, taking a hold of a random strand of hair and holding it between her thumb and forefinger. Mama had also been a redhead. "Because I'm like her."

Contemplating suicide had been a weekly exercise during the first two years of her life in Germany, and a daily part of routine directly after Third Impact. She no longer had an Eva to pilot, her greatest performance had ended in the stuff of nightmares to any who dared to watch, her Synch Rate had fallen to absolute zero before the Angel War was done, the very essence of who she thought she'd been had been broken like glass after Arael was done raping her mind. She had wanted to die and at the same time had been terrified by the very notion of departing, disappearing, then bombs had started to detonate on her back, and her deadbeat mother had chosen the end of the world to have a heart to heart with her broken daughter.

_Really, I'm just like her, _the youth decided. Another day had passed; another meeting with Mama had come and gone without major complications, leaving her with a realization she had long since recognized. _Just like Mama, I waited for the last possible moment. The moment where you're already fucked, but you'll take the tiny amount of hope anyway. The last seconds in the Activation Clock… damn… I really am my mom. _

The final chance before the Spear spread her arm in two was drawing near, the last chance the Universe would give her pursuit of happiness. _You can read every holy book, every volume on psychology and trauma, you can be the finest general doctor in the world, you can memorize every little line written on enlightenment, _she mused, raising her right arm to the fading light. _It doesn't make any difference if you don't believe a word of it. _The final element in was there at last, making her feel at home in a house she had never seen before. Just like those nights in which her body had reveled against her and screamed NO loud enough for the entire compound to hear, it was screeching a resounding YES every time the Shinji's scent engulfed her.

_He'll realize I've been sleeping in his bed even if I wash the sheets and buy a new mattress, _it dawned on her that the task of trying to disguise her scent in his house was a futile effort, so she'd deal with the consequences as they came. There was no longer any fear left inside, only hard determination. The last drop of dread had dripped away the moment Asuka had removed Shinji's bandages and began working on the knife slashes one by one.

The doctors had done a fine job, indeed, considering the critical state Shinji had been brought in, but in their haste to keep the young man alive, the doctors had not closed off the incisions in a way that left as little scarring as possible. It was a heavy, delicate task; to reopen and properly close a wound so as to avoid any and all dangers of infection carried the hazard of reopening half-closed arteries and causing life-threatening bleeding, especially if the patient's lung tissue was considered.

Regardless, she had found two pieces of discarded metal, a half-used piece of string badly wrapped around one of Shinji's veins, and a small pebble imbedded at the corner end of the cut in his leg, and the potentially most dangerous one, a small piece of debris from whichever wall Shinji had crawled through with an open gash in his back. Any of those small objects could have creating complications in the future, so she'd taken them all out and chewed off the Medical Staff, demanding to know how a twenty-two year old was able to see things experienced surgeons hadn't noticed, or bothered to notice.

"Who would've thought he's been in more street fights than I have," she muttered with a level of self-disappointment, shifting in her seat. The first stars began to shine through the curtain of dusk; located strategically facing the shadow of the mountains, Shinji's apartments was one of the few places in the illuminated metropolis where some constellations were visible. "Two overdoses, huh…"

If the boy's medical record left something clear, it was that Shinji was no stranger to the hospital, knife wounds or overdoses. He had overdosed twice in a span of five years, had been in the ER being treated for broken bones, concussions and slashes many a time, and according to the nurses, had a charming personality so long as he was being provided with generous morphine to keep him sedated. When the dosages started to grow too few and far between the young man would lash out with biting words, eerie knowledge of the nurses' lives, and ultimately carefully designed insults meant to go under the victim's skin. A strategy the former female pilot was painfully familiar with; trying to push people away before they abandoned her. The familiarity of his behavior only roused more misery in her chest, a misery she embraced and used to strengthen the resolve of being there.

The cold breeze gently swayed the auburn locks away from her face. She had watched the stars with him once, after the Tenth Angel had been defeated. Threading through the awfulness of her past alone, with little else than her father's vague presence as a reminder this was, indeed, reality, had forced Asuka to appreciate those brief lapses in time when she had been a simple teen, spending time with her… friends.

"Were we ever… something close to friends…?"

The night air refused to answer, so she made her way back into the apartment and began the task of cooking dinner; it had been some time since the last time she had eaten, and even longer since the last time she had cooked. There would be nightmares that night, without a doubt. _It'll still be Shinji's bed, though; _she reasoned and was able to stop the slight trembling of her fingers. _I only have it for two more nights, might as well make the best of it. _

It felt as though she were stealing something, felt like a forbidden act; to sleep on his mattress engulfed by his scent and blankets without so much as by your leave from the proprietor. She had two more days of weakness left, regardless of how disrespectful or intrusive it was, two more nights to let her defenses down and sob into his pillow, only to have the true hardhip begin once he stepped a foot back in his home.

"I'm ready," Sohryu Asuka Langley told herself with a determined expression while devouring some fried sausages and salad. "I'm ready. And even if I'm not… I'm doing this. I fought kaijus bigger than this building and survived the end of the world," she stabbed the meat with her fork with vehemence. "I'll be damned if I can't save that idiot from himself."

The curtian of night fell upon the apartment, making the air in the kitchen feel frigid.

* * *

"_Come on, quick, quick! Somebody might come!"_

"_Will you shut the fuck up and help me bind this little b-OW!" The resounding echo of a slap bounced off his heavily dosed mind. "Little bitch bit me!" _

"_HELP! Help me! Please, somebody, anybody! HELP! HELP M-" A very familiar –ding- indicating the use of a tube of some sorts came next, and Shinji blinked, stopping in his tracks to look right. _

_Something about the girl's hair… had seemed so familiar under that city light, vaguely auburn, correct in length. The next thing he knew, legs which had wobbled for about a mile steeled, and the familiar elixir called adrenaline pumped mercilessly through his veins. _

"-also have to be careful with sudden movements for the next three weeks. The damage to your lung is minimal, thank the Gods, but you took a nasty slash to the stomach, and that puncture wound in your leg almost got to the bone," The doctor's drowning, medical tone that feigned friendliness brought him back to the current date. Yes, freedom at last. At the very least, freedom until he reached his apartment. _My confinement, you mean,_ he pondered with displeasure and nodded absently at the doctor, who continued to droll about his condition.

"This new version of the serum is truly a superb advancement in medicine," General Surgeon Hokada mentioned as he held up a small jar containing the crimson liquid. "Your soft tissue is regenerating at a dramatic rate, which also explains the episodes of exhaustion you've been having for the past few days. As your body grows stronger, I would expect the overall dizziness will disappear. Now, I know you like to run in the mornings, and that you train regularly at this… Third Impact Gymnasium…" The man clicked his tonge and regarded Shinji with a bored gaze. "I would recommend you abstain from any physical strain for at least two more weeks. Then, after your next check-up we can discuss slowly getting back to your routine. Is everything clear until this point, Ikari-san?"

"Oh, crystal, Doctor Hokada," while attempting to limit the drowsiness off his own voice, Shinji disregarded how the sarcastic replies were more of an unconscious response lately. "So clear I think I might go blind from it. Really, you do such a splendid job at…(cough)… explaining! It's like...(cough)... I'm being enlightened!"

The doctor narrowed his eyes in Shinji's direction upon hearing the coughs. "That reminds me," he wrote something down on his clipboard and closed it a second afterwards. "No smoking for the next four weeks, minimum. That means no weed, either, Ikari. I know you like to mellow out with your little joints, but we need that gash in your lung cleaned and healing."

"Oh?" Shinji raised an amused eyebrow while he played with the rims of his wheelchair. "So you mean that chunk of dried up flesh I call my left lung is still functioning?"

Rising from his comfortable seat with an air of clear annoyance, the man in the coat walked over to the door and pushed the button, extending an unspoken invitation for the former Third Child to leave his office. "Sohryu-san truly is a remarkable physicial, indeed. Her work in that particular incision limited the damage to your lung to a poultry 5%. Considering the serrated knife your assailant used to stab you from behind, I'd say it's nothing short of a miracle that you can use it at all, let alone retain more than 50% functionality."

He wheeled himself off the room with evident difficulty and relinquished control to the monkey waiting outside once he left. Let the brute push him around the hospital; the young man did not feel at all inclined to make his way down to the exit just yet. "Yeah, wonderful, the great Doctor Sohryu-sama comes again to show us, poor earthly bastards, how the job should be done, no? Tell me, doctor Hokada," Shinji's eyes narrowed just as a predatory smirk drew itself on his features. "What does it feel to be outclassed by a twenty-two year old?"

"Your caretaker will be responsible for the serum's dosages and the redressing of your wounds. Good day, Ikari-san. May you have a swift recovery." And with the last statement the doctor shut the door an enclosed himself in the spacious office.

"Meh, that guy is no fun," he commented to the large bodyguard/nurse/handler who wordlessly wheeled the injured Third Child through the large hallways. "Kinda makes me miss Ritsuko. Hmm… I wonder how that life sentence is working out for her, maybe I should pay the old hag a visit once I'm able…(cough, cough)… ah crap…. Ahem… once I'm able to walk properly." He turned back to the stoic figure behind and motioned with his right hand. "What say you, oh, mysterious benefactor who pushes me around like a rag doll? Should I go to Ritsuko's? Maybe she's got pointers on how to properly shoot yourself in the head, you know. She tried it that one time before they dragged her off to jail! Hah! (Cough)."

Eliciting a reaction from the heavily-built man in charge of keeping him check was turning boring, so Shinji yawned, hissed when three of his four new soon-to-be scars stung, and redirected bored, empty cobalt orbs from one familiar face to the other. _In reality, I should be flattered, _the boy reasoned with a bit of pride. _Stabbed four times, with all of my left side, my dominant side, basically useless and still they sent some juicehead monkey to escort me to the door. What a joke. _

Quicker than he would have liked, the boy was sitting in the taxi's very uncomfortable backseat as the random driver took nervous glances through the rear view mirror, and the newly-erected city flashed quickly through the window. The similarities with what had once been Tokyo 03 were there; the buildings collecting electricity in the mornings, the passageways that opened with the latest technology, the train stations, the streets; it all looked modern, fresh and promising.

The hole in the ground where his home had once been remained exactly that, a hole in the ground.

Men, women, and youngsters hurried either to or from work, teens and children in school uniforms laughed and joked, pushing each other with smiles on their faces. Sometimes, depending on the global climatic conditions they'd have a winter, and it would snow. People wore nicely decorated coats and sweaters, the children played and threw snowballs at one another, even the restaurant held a slightly friendlier atmosphere on those rare occasions. It all served to remind Shinji that the sacrifice and torture had not been in vain. There was life on Earth still, life as SEELE had not wanted it, and that alone was victory enough for him. He had taken his father's plans, his precious little scenario and shattered it into a million tiny pieces.

_Never mind that I killed every single person in the world in a temper tantrum, _he thought dispassionately while his gaze turned to where the massive crater was located. _And I blew my own home to shit. I vaporized pen-Pen… heh… what a pathetic little worm you are, Ikari. _

At some pioint during the ride after telling the driver to take the longest route he knew, Shinji began to drift in and out of consciousness. The serum, or whatever they called it, truly had a numbing effect on his entire body; he felt exhausted from head to toe. Cars drove by, children laughed, a train rode off somwhere and before he knew it, sleep had claimed him.

"_Run!" _

_The little girl had blinked impossibly large eyes to him, wide with fear and clearly foreign. What was an exchange student doing in this neighborhood at such a late hour, anyhow? "Run!" He repeated, loving the way his knuckles cracked when they impacted on the second assailant's face and pushed the man three steps back. "Are you daft, __**stupid**__, or do you want to __**die**__ today, huh?!" He bellowed this time, glaring down at the still immobile schoolgirl._

_A bloodied hand picked the youngster from the ground and hurled her to her feet with much more force than needed. "Run! Get the hell out of here! Go!" He pointed in the sidewalk's direction and pushed the girl away. "RUN! Run, you stupid little bitch! __**RUN**__!" _

_The last scream apparently had a satisfying effect, for the girl blinked once more, nodded quickly and started hot-tailing in the way he had signaled. Not two seconds after she fell out of focus did the third one slam himself against Shinji and pushed him to the wall. "Oh, you want some, too?!" He snarled, took a hold of the man's pants and shirt and knocked him down with a judo throw, enthralled by the sickening crack of the skull slamming against the asphalt. "Come on, you god damned cowards, come on!" _

_The first two had already risen back to their feet. One threw a drunken right hook which he easily dodged, opening himself for Shinji's leg kick to throw him right back on the ground. Before the man could rise, he planted a solid foot on his head and smiled at the satisfying sound of nose cartilage being smashed. The next one took a safe distance, brandishing a pocket knife, and managed to connect a few punches and scratch the outside of his right forearm before Shinji took a hold of his hand and head butted the man's nose with tremendous momentum. _

_He dug his knee deep in the opponent's ribcage twice, and drove the third knee directly to the skull, enjoying how the bastard's head bounced off his grip like a basket ball. A powerful body shot and a right hook later, the second man was on the ground for a second time. He was about to lift the first one back to his feet in order to properly snap his neck when the sensation paralyzed him for a second. _

_He had stepped on the syringe the criminals were about to use on the girl, so what… what was digging into his back with such ease and stealing his ability to breathe? It dawned on Shinji that he was being stabbed from behind by a new, fourth assailant he had not yet seen, and just as he prepared for a well-aimed elbow in the man's gut, the knife inside his flesh twisted and the third man rose, slamming a powerful hook in Shinji's temple. _

"_Hey! Get the fuck up and beat on him!" He heard the fourth one bark out instructions, frowning at the garlic-like stench from the man's mouth. "Hurry up, this scrawny brat is stronger than he looks!" The knife was removed in a fluid motion and reinserted in his leg without much effort. Just as he screamed out in pain Shinji realized it was a damn good knife, and a sharp one, the one being used to immobilize him at the moment. _

_From then on it was all flashes of punches as they impacted his face, kicks, the neon lights coming in and out of focus, and the cold blade comfortably lodged in his thigh. He bode his time, and when the opening came, slammed the back of his head against the man holding him, who in turn pulled the blade out and tried to stab him again. He watched the pink, almost white muscle mass turn deep red and start gushing out blood in seconds. Shinji's survival instincts flared, he dodged just enough so that the tip of the knife entered his left side as the man slashed wildly. _

_The first, second and third ones were back to their feet. The second one threw himself at him, knife in hand, but even wobbling on one leg he saw the attack coming, grabbed onto the hand once more, only this time he pressed hard against the man's elbow until the resounding crack came. He took the pocket knife from the weak hold and hurled it deep where the man's entrails would be. The ever so familiar sound of a tube impacting his head blackened Shinji's vision for a few seconds, which was more than enough time for the fourth one to dig the knife deep in his left side one final time. _

_Shinji stared at the pommel in shock, pinkish drool dribbling down his mouth, and __**smirked**__._ _A knife to the stomach, really? As if his insides had not been thoroughly cooked, as if his entrails were not removed on a nightly basis. "That all you got, you punk?!" He demanded, taking a firm hold of the hand holding onto the pommel while his right elbow slammed vicious and repeatedly on the thug's head. "Come on, try a little harder, will you?! Come on!" Completely disregarding the way blood freely spewed off his mouth with every word spoken, Shinji kneed him right in the temple, puking back a mouthful of blood in the process, and stepped on the man's head twice. Clenching the right fist, left hand holding the blade in place, he stood before them. _

_The three other men hurried to get back to their feet and threw terrified glances in his general direction. Unaware that he was sneering with open, deranged eyes and bleeding heavily from the head, mouth, nose, leg and stomach, Shinji held up his fist and took slow, heavy steps towards them. "Come on…" he wheezed as crimson droplets stained the sidewalk under his feet. "Come on… come at me, (pant)… it's three on one, come on…" He stepped into the light. "Come on!" _

_One of the assailants' eyes went wide as saucers. "Oh… oh, no. Oh, shit, shit, shit! Guys, this is… this is Ikari!" _

"_W-What?" asked the second one even with the small pocket knife protruding from his gut. "What did you say?!" _

"_That's Ikari! I know that face, I've seen it on the news! Shit! Shit! Let's go! Let's go, we have to leave right now!" _

"_What about Ishidoro? Are we supposed to lea-"_

"_Fuck him!" The first one tugged the remaining entourage away. "He's probably dead, anyway! We need to go! Do you assholes want Katsuragi sniffing around **our** operation!? Huh?! We need to go __**now**__!" _

_In a flash, between him blinking away the drowsiness and puking out another glob of crimson, the assailants disappeared and he was left in the sidewalk with a knife imbedded in his abdomen. "Pff," he wobbled, walking away from what he assumed was a corpse. "Bunch of pussies…" _

_Realization dawned and hit him harder than the metal tube; if he took out the knife the bleeding would worsen considerably and his chances of surviving the night would be all but nonexistent. They were already stocked against him, anyhow. During some of his fights, Shinji tended to forget he was no longer in the Entry Plug, with a powerful S2 engine to magically put him back together. Taking a firm hold of the pommel, the young man nodded to himself and ever so slowly started removing the blade-_

"Ah, Ikari-san, are you awake?" The sensation of the car grinding to a halt and his head bouncing a bit roused Shinji from the memory; he blinked with heavy eyelids, recognized the entrance to his apartment building and produced a frustrated grunt. "I took the long route as you instructed, sir. Do, uhm… do you need some help getting out?"

_No, of course I don't, you stupid little bald fuck, _biting off a sarcastic remark, Shinji nodded wordlessly and opened the door, already dreading what awaited on the other side of his own door. _I was only agonizing with half my stomach filled with blood ten days ago, and don't even get me started on this useless leg, or the fact that a serrated steel knife was introduced in my lung. _The medical staff had been kind enough to grant him a pair of fresh, new crutches, a wheelchair and a cane of all things to help him maneuver. "Shit, I guess I ought to be thankful that this stupid complex is cripple friendly," he muttered to himself whilst the driver wheeled him into the elevator.

"Sir?" The man asked in return. The familiar ding put the meager conversation to an end and spared Shinji the need to explain himself for using yet another word that was no longer socially acceptable.

"Nothing, forget it," he ground out, ignoring the man's quiet outrage when he stretched to push the button to his floor and upset his injuries in the process. "Here," the young man produced a random number of yen from his pant pocket and pushed them in the man's unsuspecting palm. "Thanks for the help."

"A-Ah!" The driver blinked, and tried to articulate a sentence just as the door closed. "T-Thank you, Mr. Ikari! I hope you get well soon! You're a h-" Thankfully, the man's voice disappeared under the ominous hum of the metallic device ascending towards the ninth floor. Shinji took out his cell-phone and sighed dejectedly upon discovering the many varied messages in the inbox.

HEY THERE, HERO, his boss, the restaurant owner wrote. TAKE AS MANY DAYS OFF AS YOU NEED. WE KNOW YOU DON'T LIKE US MEDDLING IN YOUR STUFF, SO WE VISITED YOU ON THE SECOND DAY BUT YOU WERE STILL UNDER. IT WAS A TRULY HEROIC THING THAT YOU DID, SHINJI, YOU OUHGTA BE PROUD AND HOLD YOUR HEAD HIGH. WE'RE PR-

Delete.

ARE YOU OKAY?! The excessive use of exclamation marks let the boy know Kodame, one of the waitresses had been the next to write. WE HEARD THE NEWS AND RAN TO THE HOSPITAL! MY GOD, THERE WAS SO MUCH BLOOD-

Delete.

HEY THERE, RUTHLESS. The comment from his trainer and the stupid little nickname they had given him brought a small, lopsided smirk in Shinji's lips. HEARD YOU GOT INTO A NASTY FIGHT. HEARD YOU WON, SO CONGRATS. GET WELL SOON. WE'LL VISIT WHENEVER YOU'RE GOOD ENOUGH TO DRINK. HOLLA.

The last message he did not delete, and while he busied himself with emptying said inbox, the sound of the elevator arriving to his floor forced yet another annoyed sigh from the injured former pilot. He quickly typed a generic answer for all his contacts and hit send before pushing himself into the alleyway. _"Thank you all for your kind wishes, I'm well on my way to recovery and will be back in business in three weeks. Sincerely, Shinji." _

The young man's damaged stomach rumbled; it was quick to remind him he had not taken any sort of solid food throughout his entire latest stay in the ER, which was both discouraging and repulsive. He detested the gruel they forced down his throat or though the trice-dammed tube during the first days, and hated that his own stomach acids created one hell of an ulcer against the healing walls of the damaged organ. Even with both Japan and Germany's latest advancements in technology, he had been forced to endure six conscious, and ten full days of nothing significant in his belly. "Yeah, I'll get on it as soon as I reach the kitchen," he told the recovering organ. "Hold it for another thirty minutes."

Having reached the house, Shinji did not bother to so much as knock before pushing himself up to slide his key trough the laser. The door hissed open, hissed closed and he quietly made his way inside; the first thing that assaulted his senses was the smell of apples and papaya, along with some form of vegetable soup. "Huh?" he asked nobody in particular after reaching the kitchen. "I don't remember leaving the stove on… for ten freaking days." From the corner of his eye a glint of crimson moved along some loud, rock song his keen hearing detected next. "Hey!" He yelled as hard as he could this time, coughing twice for his trouble.

"_**Gott Verdammn****t**_!" Asuka jumped in surprise and spun back to meet his stony gaze with shock evident in her blue eyes, clutching her chest in surprise. Well, she could still scream high enough to leave him partly deaf, it seemed. "W-What are you doing here?!" She demanded next, and upon realizing the absurdity of her own question, blinked and recomposed herself. "I-I mean! What the hell , Baka? Don't you know of the concept called knocking?!"

Shinji's head dropped to the side, not in the slightest impressed. "You do know this is _my_ house, right? Why the hell would I knock…(cough)… to get inside my own home?"

"Well, you knew I was going to be here!" She shot back, taking a chance to move the long locks off her eyes. "And what are you doing moving with those kind of injuries by yourself, huh? Are you stupid?! What part of 'no sudden movements' was too hard for your mushed brain to understand, huh, Baka?!"

A yawn threatened to escape his mouth, so Shinji relocated his gaze to the pristine condition of his living space and shrugged once again, arising more annoyance from the former Second Child. "Eh, it's not the first time I've been in a wheelchair on my own, nor the first time I've had some level of life-threatening injury, anyway." Before the redhead could articulate a response, he continued. "Is there food around, by any chance? I'm pretty hungry. I can cook if there's nothing ready yet."

Some form of queer relief came over the redhead's features, he noticed, yet just as the slow lowering of defense came, it disappeared and was replaced by the look he knew so very well. She was annoyed with him. _Ah, refreshing, _he pondered and squashed the urge to smile with brutal force. _To know that some things never change. _

Asuka crossed her arms, letting his hazed mind take in her current attire. She had a casual attire on, with a long, overly large white shirt with the sleeves wrapped up to facilitate kitchen work, a pair of long, red shorts and white socks. "Of course there's food, you idiot. Your stomach was too banged up to process anything a few days ago, but I guess it can take this."

In a flash she had taken some orange liquid from the fridge and poured a generous glass, then returned to his side and offered with a carefree expression. Shinji's eyes narrowed, he frowned deep under the curtain of the overly grown brown locks, and forced the battered hand to cooperate. His fingers ever so lightly grazed against hers when he accepted the cold beverage. "It's an apple and papaya smoothie." The redhead's voice came from above him. "It's freshly made, too. It'll help you boost that immune system and patch up the wound in your stomach walls in no time."

_Throw it, _his mind roared in absolute rage. _Throw it, throw it! Throw it in her face! Throw it at her skull and fracture it! Throw it at the wall! Take that glass and slam it against her face! _"Hmm," he said instead, taking a sip. "It's good." Then, horrible insight arrived, forcing a cold smirk to appear. "This is the first time you've offered me anything. _Ever_."

It was a dry, stoic remark spoken in the flattest of tones, and judging by how the woman's body froze next to his; the offensive had been more than successful. _I am throwing it in her face, don't worry, _he mused as the sickening satisfaction of having imbalanced someone sprung in his chest. To his dismay, however, Asuka recovered much quicker than anticipated and did not respond with biting anger.

"Yeah," she agreed and nodded, turning her eyes away. "I guess it is. Well, better late than never, don't you think?"

Shinji's right eye twitched in annoyance. _Fuck, _he thought gravely. The woman who stood before him was not familiar at all. _Who is this person in front of me? _"I suppose so," huffing, Shinji emptied the glass in eight consecutive gulps and set it down on the table with a resounding clang. "Thank you, it tasted… healthy."

"That's just the appetizer," a small level of recognition climbed back to his mind when Asuka placed her hands on her hips. _Ah, yes, now __**that**__ I remember. _"I have a strawberry salad waiting for you on the table, dipped with bits of unsalted almonds and cashews. Do you like cala lettuce?" Shinji shrugged in response. "Get ready to like it, then! Here," The redhead revealed the very ornamented, carefully lain plate on the spot he usually sat, where the stool had already been removed since he was forced into the useless wheelchair for another two days. "Dig in!"

_Pick it up and step on it, _his mind offered this time just as he finished pushing himself to the table. Asuka had tried to move in order to help him, he supposed, but Shinji had used his coldest 'Gendou' stare to freeze the young woman in place. _Trash this ridiculous plate right now. Break it, break it with your fist! Smear your blood on her face, on her clothes, turn this fucking table over! _Shinji's cold gaze wondered from the salad, to Asuka's neck and back. _Strangle her! _

_**Never. **_

Even while he was actively growling and glaring at the nice little salad as though it had just spat on his face, the man's left arm took a hold of the chopsticks. _Stick those chopsticks in her eyes! Bite down on her neck! NOW! _He took three demure bites, eyebrow raised at the interesting mixture of flavours; the lettuce had a pleasant crunch to it, along with a bitter aftertaste which was complemented by the sweet-sour flavor the strawberries provided. "I was unaware that you could cook," he mentioned instead between bites. "The salad's really good."

"Yeah, well, you're unaware of a bunch of stuff, Baka," Asuka continued to put this or that in whatever place she could find in a clear effort to not sit next to him at the table. "Especially stuff regarding _me_."

"That may be true," he responded just as the last piece of salad disappeared from the finely decorated plate. "But whose fault is that, again?"

For her part, Asuka had seen through Shinji's strategy from the first moment. She kept stealing glances at the mask he called a face and recorded every wrinkle of the brow, every frown and every sarcastic smile, storing it deep in her mind for later analysis. She was about to answer and give the idiot a piece of mind in the process, yet once again Shinji reacted first.

"Ah, forget it," The glass of cold water sitting next to the plate looked very appetizing all of the sudden; Shinji took three gulps and set it down. "Who gives a crap about what happened forever ago. Anyway, thanks for the food. How long are you staying, again?"

He addressed her with a disinterested tone at best, one which perfectly masked the latent anger in his voice. She wondered whether or not he would explode in uncontrollabe ire or continue to poke her from afar with his half-assed sarcasm. _Oh, Baka. Even if you've been playing this game for the past few years, you're still a novice. _"I don't know," she finally sat down across from him and propped her chin with her right hand, gaze fixed on his cold glare. "How long did it take you to cum when you were jerking off to my comatose body?"

Then, Shinji's eyes changed and the stone wall of cobalt was lifted.

_I see you. _

The way the man's hardened expression melted for a fraction of a second was enough for her keen eye to catch another glimpse of the boy she had known during the Angel War. First a flicker of shocked surprise, secondly muted outrage, and soon after a grimaced expression transparent in communicating endless guilt flashed through his face. It lasted too little, nevertheless, too little for Asuka's taste, for soon after that calm, cold rage clouded over his features and his eyes regained the stony appearance once only relateable with Ikari Gendou.

Just as quickly Shinji groaned and turned his head to the ceiling whilst pretending to not be affected by the question at all. "Crap, I was one horny little leecher back then," he admitted. The movement of his entire left side was limited, so he extended his right hand towards the lightbulb instead. "Probably didn't even last thirty seconds." He clenched the hand into a fist. "Not that my poor performance discouraged you from speaking your mind back then, hmm?"

He was referring to the many days she had openly displayed and loudly admitted her overall disgust with his person, and the fact that she considered his action nothing short of rape. Back then, however, he had nodded furiously with tears cascading down his cheeks and begged for her forgiveness or in its defect, her attention. She had been unable to control her outbursts during those days, and he knew that fact, so Shinji was beginning to play dirty. "Well, it was a pretty shitty thing to do. A disgusting thing, truly."

"Yup," Shinji took another gulp of water. "I'm a disgusting, pathetic little excuse for space, aren't I? Or at least so you kept telling me. You never answered my question, you know, in your eternal pursuit of my past fuck-ups. How long do I have to put up with this?"

_Running away, huh? Good call this time, Baka, _The redhead realized with amusement._ You've made a smart decision for the first time in your life. Aplaus, Aplaus, Herr Idiot. _"Well, according to the order Misato gave me, about three months, give or take a few days."

"_THREE_…(cough)… _**MONTHS**_?!" The scream was muffled by the young man's injured state, but it still managed to make Asuka's eye twich; he was even trying to rise from the chair. "(Cough, cough)… What the **_hell_ **are you going on ab-!"

"STOP YELLING, YOU IDIOT!" She roared right beside his face and enjoyed how the boy's jaw hinged closed with a resounding snap and his body returned to its seated position. "Listen to me, you daft jerk," she continued drily, staring straight at his shocked gaze and taking advantage of the momentary slip on Shinji's behalf. "You have severe trauma in your midsection, a gash on your leg that got to your _bone_, and a stab wound conveniently around your lung, so screaming's off the question for the next few days."

It was the first time Shinji had ever raised his voice to her, and of all things it was to protest against something he had been pleading to have for years; her company. The young man snarled, biting down the urge to bellow with all his strength and horribly aware of the pain on his back. "Why," he whispered instead, voice dripping with venom. "Why would I need a freaking baby sitter for three months, huh? The good-for-nothing doctor in the hospital explicitly told me three _weeks_. Why would I even put up with this?"

_I don't think that's hate, but it is something really, really twisted, _Asuka recognized the gleam of anger shine in Shinji's eyes. They looked frighteningly akin to hers. "It's not like you have a bunch of choices," she answered with the most emotionless tone she could muster. "It's either this, or jail time in a very uncomfortable prison cell. Your move, Baka."

"I'll take the prison," Shinji ground out with spite. "At least in a prison cell nobody's gonna stop from cu-"

"From cutting open your veins, or hanging yourself?" interrupted the girl with a raised eyebrow. "Why, Shinji, I wasn't aware that you were my _mother_."

The man's eyes narrowed to slits; she noticed just how tight his hold on the wheelchair turned, and how the white of his bruised knuckles became visible. He truly was infuriated beyond belief, and as helpless as a little toddler. "That is _not_ funny." The low grovel of his voice made the girl's chest shudder.

"No, Shinji," she stood back up, but not before flicking the young man in the forehead with barely any strength at all. "Suicide is _never_ funny, so stop joking about it and mentioning it so casually. Otherwise I'll be tempted to tie you up to your bed every night, and believe me, I will." She had tied up men much bigger and stronger than her to their beds in the Psyche Ward down in the hospital where she'd done the practice; granted, the men were more often than not drugged with enough tranquilizers to slow down a Grizzly bear, but she was familiar with the process. "So what's it gonna be, Baka? Your door's right there."

A smile was threatening to split her serious façade in two, though. Shinji was _seething_; the skin of his face was incensed, he looked just about ready to jump off the chair and bite down on her throat. For what felt like minutes the silence stretched, neither willing to budge even a millimeter; in truth, he had every reason to feel so outraged. She had invited herself to his house, monopolized said household in less than five days, and was now basically taking away his freedom. _I'm sorry, Shinji, _she buried the pang or regret deep down, to let it torment her in the night after she'd gone to bed. _But this is for your own good. _

_SNAP THE BITCH'S NECK IN TWO! NOW! KILL! KILL! KILL AT ONCE! DISEMBOWEL THIS STUPID REDHEAD RIGHT NOW! _

For his part, Shinji shook his head twice to clear it, breaking eye contact, and focused on trying to melt the floor of his dining room with the menacing scowl that had no effect whatsoever in Asuka's calm demeanor. He was more than half-tempted to leave and be imprisoned, even after he had saved the life of that little girl, if only to spite the woman who so very easily faced him. There were no drugs in jail, though, not without some form of grievous payment. Shinji closed his eyes, and tried to breathe deeply until the wound on his back flared.

"…Fine." He ground through gritted teeth. "Have it your way… You'll regret it soon enough." He let the ominous warning hang in the air, and wondered why, or how he had spent so much time in his own damn kitchen without getting himself a drink, a joint, or some pills. "You don't know what you're getting into, Second." He mulled over the next words carefully, sharpening his tongue the way he sharpened the knives. "I don't remember asking you, or anyone for that matter, for any help. I also don't see how with your advanced new magic juice I need to wait three months for these little scratches to close. Pff," he scoffed; God, he suddenly wanted a cold, nice Keller and four or five Valiums. "Some magic potion you brought back. What the hell happened to your hand?"

Asuka's eyes softened as they shifted towards the small wrapping on her forefinger. "I had a little accident with one of your knives, it's nothing." She dismissed the apparent slip on Shinji's behalf, a show of concern, with a motion of her hand and retrieved the small object from the counter. "Anyway," _No better time than the current to drop the N2 Mine, Sohryu._ "What's up with this?"

Shinji's eyes almost bulged out their sockets.

Held innocently between Asuka's fingers, wrapped in some sort of weird plastic rested… the first letter he had ever sent her. "What…" he began, too taken aback to let the anger dictate his behavior. "What are you doing with that?"

"Duh," this time it was her who shrugged with an air of indifference. "You sent it to me, Baka. I've always hated letters, you know? If you have something to say, I prefer it if you do it to my face. I don't believe in letters, so here," she took out the letter for the first time in seven years, and placed it ever so delicately on the table, praying to any and all Gods who listened for the idea not to backfire in some horrendous manner. "Read it to me. To my face, how it should be."

_Fuck four Valiums, _Shinji realized, frozen in place for reasons unknown. _I'll need the whole damn bottle. _His hand gingerly picked the small envelope, turning it between his fingers with the same dumbfounded expression he'd worn so many years ago. _Rip it to pieces, _his mind provided, and the man's fingers stilled. There were close to no wrinkles in the paper, the pathetically scribbled 'For Asuka' stared back at him with the same blue hue it had on the day he'd written it. _Rip it, burn it right in her face and throw the ashes in her eyes. Ball this shit up and throw it to the trash where it belongs. Do it. _Why was he opening it? And why was he being so careful?! _Do it, rip it to shreds, Shinji. Tell her to go fuck herself and take these back to Germany, to the trash! Do it! Do it!_

_**Never. That would hurt Asuka.**_

Unbeknown to him, the young man's face twitched as his expression turned from shock to rage, then to anger and finally settled on a bitter frown. Asuka noticed how his hands shook, as though he was trying to squash the harmless piece of paper under his palm and some invisible force held him back. "Go on," she encouraged, still on her feet. "Read it to me."

Before he fully realized what was happening the letter was held between both his hands, and his own words were glaring back. "Dear Asuka," he began. _Fuck! Stop, stop god damn you, stop this reading this crap! Stop! _"I… I'm sorry about what happened, and really hope you're okay and weren't hurt. I heard gunshots before I fell," The flashes of that day's event whipped through his head; the hospital lights, pain on his side and on his back, the fear of having nobody answer his questions, the solitude of his room, for days on end. "I'm in the hospital right now, and they won't tell me where you are, they think I'm angry with you or something. Can you believe that?" He paused, placed two fingers on his forehead and hissed low in his throat. "Shit…"

It was supposed to have been their first date; Asuka had agreed without thinking if only to be rid off Shinji's constant mumbling, realizing until the last moment she'd agreed to go outside and take a walk and eat some ice cream with him. Her mood and mental condition had been horrible back then; she only ever gravitated between endless, depressive grief and blinding anger. Asuka swallowed down a lump in her throat. "I… I'm listening," this time her voice came out as a mere whisper.

_Burn this stupid shit right the fuck now and go get a drink, Ikari, _his mind barked. _What are you, twelve?! You don't have to obey her, you don't have to obey anyone! Fucking stop this nonsense already and spit in the bitch's face! _"I'm…" the former pilot continued reading despite his best efforts to get up and leave. "I'm hurting all over right now, they told me you pushed me…" he glanced in the redhead's direction, disappointed to have her eyes obscured by long strands of auburn locks. "But I won't believe them. I was the one who touched you all of the sudden, and I don't blame you at all for anything, I just hope you're okay. It's… getting kind of lonely in this room." _Just… rip it to shreds already, Shinji. Don't remember that. _

_**But Asuka asked me to. She didn't demand it, she didn't yell; she asked me to read her my letter. **_

_Fuck, _grimacing, Shinji carried on. "I'm… scared. Sometimes it's hard to sleep, sometimes without you to call me an idiot… I feel like I'm still dreaming, like I'm still… in there." The image of his mother's corpse manifested so strongly that he almost lost the faint grip on the piece of paper. "I…" he swallowed heavily. "I think I saw my mother, Asuka, in my dreams… in a nightmare. I really miss you, please don't leave like that. Please tell me you're okay." The headache was next, slamming against this brain so hard that Shinji inhaled, coughed, and gripped the bridge of his nose.

"Do you… do you remember your mother, Asuka?" Not even bothering to look at the words anymore, Shinji hissed and forced his eyes closed. Why did it physically hurt to read his own damned words? Why did it feel like he was about to cry? "I don't remember much about mine, but I know… she wasn't a good person. Sometimes I see her, and she talks to me… and I get really scared. Are you okay?" The hand holding onto the letter fell on the table. "Love, Shinji."

He let go of the thin material as if burned by it, glaring down at his pants and furious with himself. _Pathetic, fucking pathetic. Seven years, and you can't look her in the eye if you're not drunk or high on something. _He watched out the corner of his eye how the young woman carefully retrieved both the letter and envelope, addressed his writing with what felt like fondness and folded the paper once she was done, placing it in the weird plastic bag. _What are you gonna do next, huh? Jump when she says 'jump'?! Pathetic. _

Then Asuka placed a delicate kiss on the letter, one which left him completely baffled. "Thank you, Shinji," the tone of her voice… he had to bite down on his own lip with fervor to keep the tears at bay. That tone of voice… he had only ever heard it in his dreams. "That was really thoughtful, and selfless of you."

_Speak up, _he roared from within. _Speak up, damn you! Hurt her! Get her the fuck away from me! Come on! _"There's nothing considerate, nor selfless about falling like a sack of potatoes onto a freaking table, Asuka."

"You saved my life," Shinji breathed in sharply, hand clutching into a fist so tight he almost felt his nails digging into the skin. _No, no, no, no, don't, don't day it. Don't say that, not now, not after so long, not when it means fucking nothing- _

"Thank you, Shinji." A blade far more serrated, and far sharper than the one used to slice open his back pierced effortlessly through his chest and twisted in his dead heart. "Maybe I did everything to make you think I didn't appreciate, but I do. That's why I'm thanking you." He recoiled from her as though she'd just hurled a construction hammer to his gut. _Stop this shit! Stop this charade! Stop! Can't you see it fucking **hurts**?! _His eyes were closed, clouded by unshed tears, and still the man's body jumped on contact when Asuka's hand rested on his shoulder. "I'm very sorry for pushing you so hard, I swear it wasn't my intention to hurt you like that. I swear."

And he believed her, he believed her every word completely and upon hearing it just once. The rancid pang of his self-hatred flared, biting down on his sorrow without reprieve. "Why did you leave?" He grated, not willing to open his eyes. God, he was relieving the fucking day again, watching as Asuka stood there in the street, petrified and the car rushed in to squash her. "Why did you leave like that?" _Why did you leave me?! _The boy in the school uniform cried out from his prison, where he was kept chained. _Why did you abandon me?! What did I do wrong?!_

He felt motion on his side, felt how the hand left his shoulder and Asuka once again took a seat opposite to him. "I was… scared," replied the redhead quietly. What was it with her and that relaxed, collected tone of voice all of the sudden?! Why was she so calm!? "I was scared of what I had just done, scared that… that I was enjoying myself, enjoying… your company… that day. Enjoying... being alive. I was scared that I wanted to die, and that… you wouldn't let me. So I ran, and I escaped."

_She was enjoying the company of the good-for-nothing, perverted wimp who left her to die a horrible death and used her as a comfort toy before that, _Running a calloused, scarred hand through his face and wiping away any evidence of tears from his eyes, Shinji exhaled, and coughed thrice. _I can't, _the realization hit him like a brick. _I can't be mean to her. Why? Why can't I? I can be mean to everyone! Do I need a fix, is that it, do I need to get high to tell this… to tell her what I really feel?! Her resolve will break in ten minutes flat the moment I get a good buzz going...  
_

It occured to him that it was the longest he had spent without thinking about getting high for over two years. The need to push Asuk away became almost blinding, and a nasty comment about her mother and her began to form in his brain. The train of thought was abruplty stopped in its tracks, nonetheless, when Asuka next spoke.

"Three months is roughly what it'll take to get you clean, I hope," And once again, for what felt like the fifth or sixth time in that evening alone, Shinji's sharp tongue was silenced upon hearing a response to his initial question. "That's why I'm staying… I'm staying as long as it takes, and no," she clarified, producing some small box from the upper right corner of his pantry. "I don't expect you to lay off everything you've been taking in the last few years from one day to the next. But you can't drink right now, and your little pill collection will burn a hole in your stomach before you even get a decent buzz going. So, here,"

A small gummy bear was thrown in his direction, followed by another, and another. The first one caught him right in the face, the second one he caught and the third bounced off his closed fist and fell on his pants. "What the hell?" Lifting the harmless looking, brightly colored gummy bear which was a bit larger than his thumb, Shinji raised a curious eyebrow. "What are these supposed to be?"

"Edibles, Baka," Asuka clarified, tossing a silver bag with clear intentions of hitting his nose for a second time. The reflexes came into play, however, and he caught it in mid air. "That little bear is… 200 milligrams of delicious, processed, legal THC. I asked the clerk how much I should take, and he said 'just the leg'."

"Just the leg?" came the honest and flabbergasted response from the renowned opiate dependant. "Why are they selling _whole_ bears?!"

"Hah! I know, right?" The redhead laughed, actually laughed at something he said. The sound alone woke a primal need in the young man who called himself a walking corpse, and for the first time in seven years, he was aware of his own heartbeat. He needed to squash these feelings at once, before they even began to grow; there was no salvation for Ikari Shinji. "Ha ha, it's like they're trying to proove something!"

And still, he chuckled, and for a few seconds forgot that he was about to crush Asuka's hopes into dust.

"Yeah, like 'come on down, we can actually kill you with weed, now'! Jeez, two hundred? That'll be a nice trip." He felt somewhat relieved; edible marihuana striked more heavily than some pills at times, with the side effects that it many a time drove him to places in his mind where he'd rather never go again. "Wait, so… are you my caretaker, or my _enabler_? Are you giving me drugs right now, Frau Doctor?"

"I'm being realistic," she shrugged while inspecting one of the silver bags she had thrown to his face. "I know for a fact you need something in your system in the next hour if I want those stitches to remain closed. I also know…" The redhead paused, whether from dramatic effect or indecision Shinji was uncertain, and licked her lower lip. "I also know you have bad dreams… really bad nightmares… and this might help you sleep better."

"Hmm," The only positive element he was finding about his current situation was the fact that Asuka would see him really, really high and _that_ alone normally scared even Misato out of his apartment. "And what are these?" The former male pilot opened the bag and retrieved a small, black, five pointed sweet that stuck to his fingertips.

"Those," Asuka smirked, opening her own bag with a –pop-. "Those are from my friend Joey. Ninja Stars of Death." She raised her hand, fingers apart. "_Five_ hundred milligrams. I'd recommend just about a corner of it."

Nodding absently while he inspected the treat in the light, he smiled. "A corner, you say," _You'll be back in your huge compound in less than twenty-four hours, Frau Doctor. I'm really sorry about this. _He flicked the black sweet into his mouth whole, chewed it a few times and swallowed. "Let the fun time begin, then." _But this is for your own good, and for your own safety, Asuka. It was still nice to see you, though. A true breath of fresh air. _He decided to burn the image of the healthy twenty-two year old redhead into his corroded, half-rotten soul.

The former Third Child pushed himself off the table, staring at the familiar ceiling for a few seconds before deciding to go out to the balcony. Perhaps that night he'd finally get to see some damn stars. "Oh, Baka," the sound of light chuckling addressed the cold fury that were his eyes back to her, only to watch Asuka devour one of those alleged 'Death Stars' as well. "You're nuts, you know."

"Nah," Shinji answered. It pissed him off that Asuka walked faster than he could roll himself in the limited space, and had already opened the door when he reached the balcony. He offered the most twisted smile he could muster in return. "I'm _**insane**_."

The _real_ fun was about to begin.

**TBC…**

* * *

Inspirational Music: **Still Counting, The Devil's Bleeding Crown** – Volbeat; **Inside Yourself, Let it Out, Someday** – Godsmack, **The Baying of the Hounds, Beneath the Mire, Harvest** – Opeth, **Sons of Plunder, Immortalized, Down with the Sickness, The Night** – Disturbed**, Harvester of Sorrow, The Day that Never Comes** – Metallica, **Same Song and Dance, These Drugs, Role Model** – Eminem.

_AN: Yup, pretty dark. I know, I know, I'm sorry. Nah, not really, though I can't promise a happy ending for this one, to be honest. I just had to lighten up the mood at the end though, because…uhm… because of reasons. We'll see how it goes. Anyway, if this chappy was heavy, imagine the next! Next in Em's album is… Insane! In every literal form, hah! The song is twisted, really twisted, so expect some heavy stuff next chappy. When? No clue! I'm working right now, but I don't know, this stuff's just pouring out, so who knows? When I once more have a two day window in my schedule to roughen up 15k words or something._

_I think the length of the chappies will pretty much stay around 16k to maximum 20k each. I'm not trying to write another Scar Tissue, ya know? I'm even trying to make the narrative a bit different, less... heavy, so to speak. Also, this story will not take place in the hospital lol. It'll have a quicker pace, as isto appreciate in this chappy. At some point in next chapter i'll dig deepe into some of the subjects that our dear little pair mentioned in their reunion! And trust me, this chappy is just the Overture to this reunion. I hope it works. But yeah, next chappy... damn, son. Insane!  
_

_Thoughts? Ideas? Criticism? Everything is welcome. Again, this is a developing project. Anyway, thanks for reading! _

PEACE_._


	3. Insane

_AN: Yeah, yeah, yeaaah! Don't you just love off-days? I know I do. Now, let it be known that this chappy is… weird, I think. Like with everything I do in this life, I don't think twice about it, I just let it flow. This flowed with Eminem's Insane song being played on a loop (my neighbors hate my guts!), along with other crazy songs, so let's see. I hope you enjoy it! _

_I own nothing._

"_The bastard won't even eat nothing he's fed  
He just hung himself in the bedroom he's dead"  
"Debbie don't let that fucker get you upset  
Go in there, stick a fuckin' cigarette to his neck  
I bet you he's fakin' it, I bet you  
I bet he probably just wants to see how upset you would get  
I'll go handle this of course, unless you object"  
"Ahh go fuck his brains out, if any's left in his head"_

_If you could count the skeletons in my closet  
Under my bed and up under my faucet  
Then you would know I've completely lost it  
Is he nuts? No! He's __**insane**__!_

_If you could count the skeletons in my closet  
Under my bed and up under my faucet  
Then you would know I've completely lost it  
Is he nuts? No! He's __**insane**__!_

* * *

Chapter Three: Insane

The air was crisp outside, just cool enough to be comfortable and not nearly cold enough to make her wish for a jacket or blanket just yet. About forty minutes had passed since her… the redhead snickered slightly to herself, since her patient had chugged down the Ninja Star, and was still to show any effect whatsoever. He sat a few feet from her in the new wheelchair the hospital had prepared; the look in his eyes was distant, she realized, gone was the biting, frigid, calculating look he used on every person, replaced by a thoughtful frown filled with what she assumed was melancholy.

Her strategy with the letter had been successful, at the very least. She had been prepared to pry the small paper off his hand, should he have decided to damage the small envelope, but luckily the plan had unfolded in a satisfactory fashion. Those letters, and the packages, were the last remnants of the Ikari Shinji she had known and learned to… be very fond of.

Eyes lost in the few stars discernible through the shadows and the clouds, Shinji looked peaceful for the first time since she'd arrived at Japan. His attire was an amalgamation of what Misato had retrieved in a hurry and delivered to the hospital once her former male charge had regained consciousness. A simple, comfortable looking black T-shirt obscured most of the boy's bandages aside from a small thread of gauze which ran a bit under his neck, the large pants he wore also hid away any visual evidence from the savage wound on his leg. From all the knife wounds, the one in Shinji's leg was by far the deepest, having mere millimeters from reaching his femur. _It's an honest, pleasant surprise that there's no noticeable neural damage, _she pondered. The edible's potency made itself known when Asuka's shoulder suddenly relaxed. _Careful, Sohryu, _the redhead took a deep breath. _This is a dangerous thing you're doing; you need your defenses up if you plan to survive Round One with __**him**__._

_He_, despite being the object of her attention for more than half an hour, had yet to say another word other than to request a bit of water. He sat in the wheelchair she was certain he resented, blue eyes fixed in a point far away, breathing normalized and shallow. _Yeah, _a pang of guilt intermingled with sympathy shot through her. _He has four knife founds on the left side of his body. Four. I'm sure he's used to doing everything by himself by now, and suddenly he has to put up with being unable to move. _She liked her lips, took a sip of water from the bottle which lay next to her, and cleared her throat. "So," The injured former pilot dipped his head slightly in her direction. "How are you feeling, right now? No… urges for something else?"

The last thing she needed was the tremors of withdrawal pushing apart her stitches, or the sweats infecting her carefully-cleaned incisions; the calmer Shinji remained the quicker his wounds would heal. "It's good, this little Ninja Star," Asuka heard the boy admit with little to no emotion dancing off his voice. "No, I don't need anything else right now."

_As if you have any idea of what I need, _bristled his mind with impatience. He was biding his time, letting the harmless edible drive a hole in the walls of his subconscious. Of course he wanted something else; he wanted coke. With enough coke Shinji was certain he'd get so aggressive, paranoid and erratic that Asuka would flee without looking back. Why then, had he not yet gone to retrieve the bag he kept for safety at all times? She was just sitting there in his chair, chin propped on one hand, watching him. _Ah yes, so that's how it is… the little Frau Doctor plans to expand the feats of her legacy with you, Ikari. Oh, how a clear mind sees these things._

"I bet it'll be a great article." He commented after minutes of silence. The stars were half-hidden under clouds that night, to his dismay, with hardly any of the numerous constellations he had grown fond of recognizable. "They might even offer the Pulitzer."

"Eh?" Snapped the doctor… psychiatrist, whatever she was nowadays . Oh, yes, Shinji smiled deviously to himself. _The fun part has begun. I may not be able to move much, but I can talk. That's how I got everyone else a safe distance away from me. _"What are you talking about?"

"Well, let's obviate the fact…(cough)… that I haven't seen you in seven years," elaborating on his point only meant digging deeper into her armor, and having yet another defenseless victim he could brutalize with words. "Let's completely ignore how this night, right now, is the first time since I've known you that…(cough, cough)… you've asked me, well… anything." He felt her eyes on him and wondered if the little sweet was somehow limiting the level of spite in his voice. "Those two questions you just asked… I've been hearing them for a long time. So, am I a good lab rat? Am I an interesting study subject yet?"

Turning his head in her direction once more, the boy's sardonic smile widened. Asuka was effectively glaring at him in the way he had just glared at his own floor, most likely wishing to have his skull explode with telekinesis. "What," she started, and huffed with clear annoyance. "What the hell are you going on about?"

"Hey, come on, now. Don't act so surprised," he shrugged even when the three lesions on his upper body stung beyond belief. "I was bound to figure it out, at some point. We can of course, attribute this to the fact that I'm this sober at the moment. Ah, you should've given me ten of those little starts, Asuka."

The girl he had dreamed of for so many years rose from her seat and marched over to where he had wheeled himself, a few steps away from the rain, glowering down at him as though they were still fifteen years old. "You want to run that by me again, Baka?" She growled menacingly, which only earned her a bored, knowing stare in return. "What did you say? Do you think I'm doing this to write a paper on you? What the h-"

"What else am I supposed to think?" _How about the fact that you were with all those… bastards… on your time away, huh?! _ "You suddenly disappear one day after we survive the End of the World together, you don't call, you don't write, you don't even tell your dad to give NERV a memo saying…(cough, cough)… saying you're still alive. I didn't know if you were alive or not until I got off the stupid wheelchair and started making calls myself. Did you know that? I spent _four_ months…(cough)… four months not knowing what had happened to you." He made no effort in disguising the anger this time; there was no longer need to. The dam had opened, and the poison was now free to flood all over his sharp tongue. "Then all of the sudden you show up, invite yourself to my house, say that you'll save me, and open up the conversation with the most cliché couple of questions every other state shrink uses."

Was that a vein pumping just above the girl's eyebrow, which was now twitching maddeningly? The injured young man watched with a strange sense of fascination as the recognizable traits of profound anger made the redhead's body shake and her eyes narrow. He had always found her attractive, even while angered. "So you think," she ground out with a similar tone to the one he had just used in the kitchen. "That I'm here, is this god damned city of all places, taking care of _you_… so I can write some stupid paper?! A paper regarding what, Shinji?!"

"I don't know," he shot back, feeling how his pulse and breathing quickened. Her sudden outrage at his comment had ignited a dangerous pit deep inside his chest. "How about 'The Third Child, tales of a useless junkie'? Or how about 'How I saved my fellow pilot, the perverted rapist', huh? 'My experience with a serial killer' the case of Ikari Shinji', I don't know, I'm just…(cough)… throwing it out there. You really expect me to believe that you magically came down here, to take care of me of all things, because I hit rock bottom… (cough)… or something? I've been living in rock bottom for _years_, now!"

"Arrrg!" he watched Asuka ball her fists and growl in total frustration with a frightening sense of overwhelming familiarity, one which scared him right down to the marrow of his bones. "You almost died, Shinji!" she exploded at last, now actively glaring at him. "Do you _understand_ that, do you even _**care**_?! You almost died!"

The last part had come out so harshly that the girl blinked despite her ire, recalling Misato's comment, and threw a look over her shoulder to ensure no stranger was taking advantage of the show she had just displayed. Once her eyes settled back on Shinji, the annoyance only grew tenfold. How did he manage to tick her off so easily, even after so long? The deadpan, bored, slightly glazed stare Shinji held evenly to her drove her rage into overdrive. That was of course, until he opened his mouth.

"This is hardly the first time I've _almost_ died," he answered; the smile had washed off his face the second she had raised her voice. "I don't remember you coming by any of those times, and I know Misato wailed at you over the telephone, crying about whatever happened to me. Don't think you can bullshit me so easily; we're not fifteen anymore, Asuka."

Forced to swallow the crushing remark she had come up with, Asuka's eyes widened in shock and understanding; he was not even trying to lie. Shinji was thoroughly convinced she had arrived at his house with any, literally any other objective than helping him. That aside, he had just touched a very delicate subject she was not yet ready to discuss; the insultingly large absence and refusal to return for so many years. She derailed the conversation in an effort to have her strategy function in the coming days.

"I know about the fight in that low-life bar four years ago, when you turned eighteen," she ground out, making the boy's eyes widen in turn. Yes, he had not gone to the hospital in that particular event, but someone else had. "I know about the knife wound on your back, the one you never bothered to have treated. I know about those assholes from three years ago, in your gym. And I know a whole lot more. I have my reasons for not coming back then," she paused, shoulders falling. This… this particularly, fighting with him, overpowering him and imposing herself in and any and all forms possible, was the one thing she had not missed at all, and he was consciously provoking it. "I haven't given you any reasons to believe me, but I will, in time." She smiled then, which only caused Shinji to frown. "That's also a promise."

_Fuck your promise, _he almost spat, but his jaw remained stubbornly set. How had she known about the incident in his gym three years before? _Your word means nothing… nothing. _Only he knew the statement to be untrue; Asuka was not lying. "Whatever, you're just evading the question, _again_," he picked the glass and drank before the cough threatening to exit his lungs had a chance. "Why are you _pretending_ to suddenly give a shit? What's it to you if I get stabbed, or if I stab somebody, huh? What's it to you if I _die_? I think your overall response to… (cough, cough)… everything I tried left that matter crystal clear. And it's not like you're wrong, in any case. It shouldn't be anybody's concern if I die," a small sliver of melancholy stabbed him in the stomach, exactly where the knife had been introduced. Was the small Ninja Star having the opposite effect on him? "I don't deserve anybody's concern."

The anger was not radiating off his voice with the dreadful grate that forced shudders in her ribcage and made her knees weak, but Shinji's empty tone was much more painful to digest in her ears. In his youth, he had been practically unable to hide away any emotion despite his best efforts to be left alone and limit his interaction with others. Shinji stuttered, double guessed himself, stared at the floor, and his eyes and tone always spoke before his words did. As a young adult, his voice had grown deep and flat, with only anger ever managing to disrupt the monotone on occasion.

She sighed, realizing she was down to one of her emergency weapons. "So, why _do_ you try so hard, Shinji? You can be frighteningly diligent when you want to, you know. Every year, you send three letters; one on New Year's Eve, one two days before my birthday and one on Christmas. You don't even celebrate Christmas yourself. Why do you that?"

_Because it was the last connection I had left, _his mind answered, turning hazy and obscure. A small tremor ran through the right side of his body, and his arm got itchy. _Writing those stupid letters and picking your present was… the only bind left to me with humanity. _"Old habits die hard, I suppose," he answered instead. It truly was a pity he couldn't drink at the moment; he would have given anything for a big, powerful glass of whiskey right then. "I sent the first one, then the second one, and… (cough)… nobody told me stop." Switching his gaze from the stars to her face, he sighed shallowly enough to not upset the injury on his back. "Nobody _answered_; nobody even told me they were being received. I honestly thought either NERV or the government burnt them before they were ever sent, so I just kept at it, like with the cello."

"And what about the presents, then?" she inquired next, truly curious about his intention. She was sure what he had just said was a blatant lie; still, it allowed to study his behavior to a deeper depth, even when the small edible was already relaxing her every muscle and making the redhead feel quite attracted to the idea of _hugging_ Shinji. "Every year, every single year I get a package from you on my birthday."

Said young man rearranged the weight on his chair, scratched his left arm and subsequently ran a hand through his hair and nape. "Ugh," he grumbled, distracted by the way the night breeze made the auburn locks dance ever so slightly. "I never… ever got to celebrate your birthday with you," _Why lie? _He thought, pleased. _Why bother to lie when the truth is so much simpler, and more painful? Let her leave your questions unanswered, for now. _ "I never got to say happy birthday, Third Impact happened, well… I made Third Impact happen, and then you left. So I thought I'd at least try and get you something." Shinji had never planned to survive the current year; he had already deposited the package in the mail, paid and given specific instructions as to where and when it should be sent. "All I ever gave you was headaches, then I gave you a horrible, disgusting experience to remember, and then I tried to kill you."

They locked eyes again, Asuka's surprised, steely cerulean met with Shinji's dark cobalt. "It's the pathetic attempt of a pathetic man," continued the youth, and coughed. "A stupid, meaningless effort to try and amend unforgivable, terrible things; that's all it is. I'm just that much of a useless little wimp. So there, you have your answer." The itches were rising up to a crescendo, mouth watering at the very thought of a full glass of rum. "Something else to write on your article, Frau Doctor."

Asuka swallowed down both a biting rebuke and a disappointed sigh; she walked over to retrieve her chair and placed it only a few centimeters away from Shinji's sitting form. "You know," she mumbled, following Shinji's gaze to the clouds. "This is the longest we've ever spoken." Shinji blinked, raised an eyebrow and shrugged in response.

"I suppose it is," he answered back just as quietly. "Our conversations used to be you yelling at me or reminding me how much of an idiot I was, and me nodding like a little puppy." _But then you left and I was alone, __**alone**__. The world kept going, though, kept spinning, people kept living, and I started losing my mind again. _"At least now I can articulate some form of response that doesn't end in you smacking me over the head."

The girl beside giggled, she _giggled_ at his lame attempt at a joke, and unbeknown to her triggered one of Shinji's deepest, darkest traumas. He shook off the image of his mother's corpse and focused on Asuka's scent instead. "I was probably the biggest pain in the ass in the world, I bet." She commented off-handedly, expression shifting quickly from slight joy to gloom. "I expected you to focus all your attention on me, know exactly how to speak to me and read my mind to say only the things I wanted to hear." She giggled again, against her own wishes. "You also were a monumental idiot and an antisocial little brat who got on my nerves by _breathing_ next to me."

"And a horny little pervert leecher, and a waste of space, and a useless little boy," he added with mirth, chuckling alongside her. It was better to chuckle than to pay attention to the way his skin was starting to feel like it was melting. "A Baka, second-class pilot, selfish bastard, gencidal man-"

"Okay, okay," she patted his right shoulder without thinking, surprised to feel Shinji's body turn rigid under her palm. "I get it, I said a whole bunch of bullshit."

He chuckled louder; oh yes, aside from the incredibly relaxing effect of the sweet he had devoured, it also worked wonders on enabling him to feel the emotions he normally drowned out with pills and alcohol. "Not really bullshit," he forced his body to relax and shook the delicate, slim hand from his dirty shoulder.

Her perfect hands had no business touching his filthy person any more than needed; the last thing he wanted was for the disease which corroded his soul to tarnish the blinding flame her very presence brought about. "I am all those things. I _am_ pathetic, weak, and useless. I was always a second-class pilot, the only reason I survived those fights was because my mother was biding her time to crush my sanity. I _am_ a selfish bastard, selfish enough to kill all of humanity when things didn't go my way, which in turn makes me a murderer, the biggest murderer in human his-"

"What a bunch of crap," Shinji's teeth clicked when he hinged his jaw closed and turned to stare annoyingly at the redhead, who seemed… bored with him, like he had behaved towards her in the hospital. "So," she yawned. "You're telling me you were gonna stop SEELE's plan all by yourself. Oh, and the EVA Series, _and_ your father. By the way, didn't your father do all the shit he did on purpose? Didn't he have like some Grand Scheme, a scenario where he'd be God or something and he'd build himself some form of paradise for him and his wife by crushing _you_?" Shinji's hazed expression displayed slight surprise, to which she smirked. "I had my father spill every little dirty detail to me about two months after I got there. I know all there is to know about Third Impact and the role _you_ were supposed to play in it, Baka."

_Fuck, _he growled, shook his head in derision and turned back to the sky; finally some clouds had dissipated and his old friends shone from time to time. _What it is with her? It's like she's always two steps ahead of me, and all of the sudden she falls behind. _"Oh," he replied with a hint of anger in his undertone. "You know _all_ there is to know, do you now…" _You brought this on yourself, this time. _

Asuka had to suppress the urge to gulp when Shinji next laid eyes on her. _Shit, bad move, _she realized the slip of her words, product of the small token courtesy of Joey, and had opened herself for a full blow offensive. _Brace yourself, Sohryu. He's about to dig deep into the arsenal._

"Well let me tell you a little story called 'I killed you', shall I begin?"

The very aura around Shinji changed in heartbeat, she realized. His breathing became less erratic, the curvature of his jaw settled, his back strengthened somewhat and his eyes narrowed, with a sarcastic, knowing smile dancing on his lips. It felt unnatural to see him so bitter, so angry and so resolute in his own reasoning. "What?" she managed after a few seconds. "You didn't kill me, you idiot. You certainly tried to-"

"I killed you. Twice."

This time, Asuka did swallow the lump on her throat. "W-What?"

Shinji dropped his gaze back to his right hand. There was a circular discoloration there, she noticed, even after seven years it stood as clearly as the day she had first seen it, and when he closed his fist she saw the many scars and hardened skin which covered his knuckles. "I killed you," he repeated, his tone left no room for argument. "One of the many beauties of being God, Asuka, is that you are everyone, everything. You are part of creation; you _are_ creation itself, even for a second." He clenched his fist tighter, noticing how the tremors in his one available limb increased. "That means I was the EVA Series, I was those soldiers throwing bombs at you, it was my hands that dug into your belly and took out your guts." Asuka's expression quickly morphed into horror, to which Shinji only smirked coldly. "Those were my teeth digging into your flesh, tearing out your liver and spleen, it was my hands pulling the trigger that shot Misato," He opened the fist and offered the scarred palm to her. "It was my hand that threw those spears, every last one of them. I tore you apart and ate you alive, it was _me_."

She wanted him to stop, so very badly she wanted him to stop talking at once and get back to his coughing and seething, yet the redhead knew this was the opportunity she had been waiting for. There was no better time to confront the persona Shinji had erected than the current one; regardless that it was the first time they had spoken or even shared a room in seven years. "Okay," she shuddered in fear. If there was regret in Shinji's eyes she could not see it, it was very well hidden under the curtain of traumatic insanity. "That's one time."

"Oh, you remember the other one quite well, don't you?" He clenched and unclenched his hand right beside her face. "Every night, _every_ night I hear your windpipe get crushed under my fingers, then I hear myself say that everybody should just go and die. Then I kill everyone, over and over again. So you see, I'm not exaggerating, Frau Doctor." His voice turned ironic, with even a slight turn towards charm. "I _am_ a genocidal maniac. How many others do you know who can say they killed billions of people? There are still thousands who never came back, _thousands_! That alone puts me above Stalin or Hitler, wouldn't you say? At least they had soldiers to do their dirty work!" He exclaimed, laughing. "I had my dear mother, and Lilith to do mine."

_He's talking to me the way he'd talk to a state shrink, _reasoned the redhead, and inwardly thanked she had both eaten the Ninja Star and that she had already developed resistance towards them. _Clinically describing the worst traumas he has and making little of them. _"So you went along with SEELE's plans and things went smoothly, right?" She asked, poking his shoulder. _God, I want to give this idiot a good old hug. I've… never hugged anyone beside Kaji. _She had held onto the men who defiled her while they pumped into her, but she had never honestly given her father an honest hug. "Do explain how we're alive right now, Baka-Shinji."

The former pilot's head bounced back to the wheelchair's headrest. "Ah," he clarified, raising a finger. "Let us not forget that I'm _also_ a coward, Frau Doctor. So I made a choice for once in my life and backpedaled a moment after. Heh, as expected of a waste of space like me." _Everywhere can be paradise, right? Right, Mother? _From the corner of his eye Shinji saw her dip her head and offer a carefree expression on the leathery, rotten mask that was her skin. Green eyes glistened in the darkness, forcing Shinji to shake his head and scratch his arm with more ferocity than before. "I still killed you. I went and begged for your help like a mewling whelp, carrying all the pathetic pieces of myself along, and when you rightfully refused to acknowledge my miserable existence, then I took you by the neck and strangled you. I was aware of what I was doing, and still didn't stop."

_He's trying to get under your skin, _she told herself, biting the inside of her cheek as she tried to keep her gaze in his sardonic expression. He was hiding the remorse under the façade of nonchalance, she noticed. _But damn it, he's succeeding in it. _"You stopped at the beach, though."

The corners of the boy's smirk twitched, head lolling back until the chin almost touched his chest. "I did, didn't I," He stared at both his hands this time, clenching and unclenching them. "I guess third time's the charm, huh?"

Her mind was screaming 'Danger' all over, flashes of how the entire Geo-Front would go on high alert upon an Angel attack coursed through her memory when the air around them turn glacial. _Careful. You're threading through a mine-field, right now. Careful, careful. _Asuka scowled deeply, and reduced the space between herself and the boy who had almost killed her in a second. Without warning and not allowing him to react, Asuka took a firm hold of his right hand.

And placed it on her throat; whether Misato had been lying or not was about to be seen. "Do it, then," she whispered and drank in the naked shock he was now openly displaying. "Kill me. I won't fight you back. I pushed you, I almost paralyzed you because you were trying your hardest, even traumatized still as you were, to make my miserable life a bit brighter. I treated you like shit since the day I met you. So go ahead." There was no pressure at all being applied, so Asuka encircled his hand with both her own and glared right into his eyes. "Do it."

"Wha…". _Now. _His mind whispered, forcing the fingers to twitch. God, was her skin soft. It was also scalding, warm to the touch under his palm, warm hands holding his scarred knuckles in place. _Strangle her now. She's asking for it, come on. How many shitheads have you choked out till this point, huh? _A part of him desperately wanted to close his eyes and focus on the feel of her skin against his. "Let go of me." Shinji managed; where the hell had his strength gone all of the sudden? "I said let go," he repeated once the redhead didn't budge. "Let go! What, did that Ninja Star make you slip? Are you _nuts_?! Let go of me!"

"No, Shinji," she answered as she kept the hand firmly in place and _squeezed_. "I'm _**insane**_."

In his effort to pry himself free, however, the young man's fingers did tighten against her neck for a brief second. Asuka breathed in deep, surprised, and her shock was enough to pull the trigger in his mind once and for all. A small little edible could not hope to halt the horrors, sadly enough.

Shinji blinked, and when his eyes opened the person he was holding by the neck was still Asuka, only the Asuka he remembered from the nightmares. Her hair was ragged, dried and clammy, her skin pale as milk, and there was a gaping hole where her eye should have been. He could see the grey matter inside her eye socket; see the blood pour out the arm which hung, split in two next to her. The man's fingers shook, gaze turning wide with horror when he saw the redhead's entrails dangle from an open wound in her abdomen. And in his left hand, clutched between the bloodied fingers he had used to kill every single human on Earth, her liver.

_**You can never hurt Asuka. Never.**_

Shinji ripped his hand back in absolute terror, disentangling himself from her hold with such vehemence that he almost fell over. He panted, closed his eyes, hissed when the injuries complained against his sudden burst of motion and shook his head. _I need some booze,_ he reasoned, and tried to slow his breathing so as to not hyperventilate. _A couple of Nightquills, some Valiums and two Clozapines, then I'll sleep, and she'll be safe. _

The boy rattled in his chains, the ones he had dug deep into the prisoner's flesh. _**You can never hurt her, do you understand?! Never!**_

Asuka remained rooted to her spot before him, hands falling to her sides devoid of all strength. She was shocked beyond belief, but above all things shocked from Shinji's terrified stare just before he had ripped his hand away. _Wow, _she remembered to breath, throat dry and faintly clenched and unclenched both her hands. _He's… __**very**__ strong. _The girl had been holding his hand in place with a rigid hold, and still in a second he would have dragged her to the ground, had she not let go of him. It dawned on her that the muscles on Shinji's upper back were the most developed and visible in his relatively slim frame, it was precisely due to the developed muscle mass on his back that the knife had not managed to penetrate further. He was _covered_ in thin muscle, and had just proven her that even injured he could overpower her at will.

The pain in the young man's head receded, in turn, when the result of him pushing his body beyond logic manifested; the large gash on his back suddenly came alive and stole his ability to breathe, while at the same time an invisible serrated blade twisted inside his stomach and forced a loud grunt out of him. "Are you…(cough)… out of your _damn_ mind?" he barked through the agony. "I could've hurt you! What the hell is wrong with…(cough, cough)… you, huh?!" The knife coiled in his abdomen this time, and Shinji's left hand shot up to the wound. "Shit…! Arrg… What are you trying to p-"

"I said," Asuka cut him short when she once again manifested just inches away from his face, only this time the pain was such that he could not, for the life of him, move away. "Do it." She repeated, growling at him. She was not angry anymore, he noticed through the grimace of having the knife in his leg flare up and the one in his back curl hard enough to force out another grunt. "Kill me if you wish. Hit me, push me out this damn balcony if that's what you want. I won't blame you. Hell, I won't even stop you. But," both her hands planted on each side of Shinji's chair so that she was positively straddling him. "Don't you _**dare**_ make another sudden movement like that, or I swear on my mother's grave that I'll put you to sleep for the next _ten_ days. Then you'll have your precious little dreams to keep you company while your body heals the way it's supposed to."

Her forehead came in contact with his, and even if one of Shinji's eyes was closed due to the pain, he could feel the intensity of her glare like he felt the sun burn his skin on a hot day. He struggled half-heartedly to get away, upsetting the half-healed gashes to keep the visions from overtaking his consciousness. "What the hell do you expect…(grunt)… when you suddenly put my hand…(cough)… on your throat like that… huh…?"

"I expect no sudden movements, you idiot." She said. _This is the closest we've been since… since Third Impact. _The almost nonexistence distance between both youngsters allowed Asuka to catch his scent, disarrayed by chemicals and blood as it was. "Literally everything else is allowed, just no sudden movements. I need those cuts to close." _So that when I muster up the courage to hug you properly, it won't hurt, _she reasoned. A blush suddenly overcame her features, noticing the miniscule gap she'd have to reduce in order to steal a kiss. "I need you to get healthy, Shinji." _For both our sakes. _

Injuries aside, the young man felt just as powerless as he had during Third Impact. There was little to no strength in him, the pathetic little sweet had turned his normally rigid muscles into jelly, his left leg refused to move in the slightest, and he had been at the verge of causing Asuka physical harm with his right hand. _**You don't deserve to be close to her. Remember that. **_He nodded wordlessly both to the redhead and the voice in his head, but once he opened his eyes realized the little brat had already loosened one of his shackles.

She was so close, so close that he _saw_ the blood gushing out the hole in her forehead and splash against his face. He hissed much louder this time, shutting his lids and moving his head violently. _Stop, I get it; stop it, _he implored, to no avail. The palpitations began to increase, the tremors manifested all over his body; he had forgotten to get a proper fix of anything for hours now, and the disastrous effects were about to manifest. _**No, **_said the little boy.

"Hey, hey, Baka!" He faintly realized the girl had placed her hands on his shoulders at some point, and was trying to hold him in place. "Hey, stop turning your head like that! You're gonna tear your stitches open! God damn it, listen, you stubborn idiot! Stop it with the sudden movements, already! Hey!"

_Stop, stop, stop, _the images were running rampant in his brain; the sight of Unit 02's mangled corpse, the many lone nights in his room with nothing but the voices to keep him company, the constant giggling of her mother as he suffered… the night the men took him and beat on him like a piñata, the sensation of his own cigarette burning through layer after layer of skin; they crashed in a constant swarm, and soon enough the screams and the voices threatened to deafen him. "Are you seriously stupid?!" Asuka's loud voice seemed so very faint under the onslaught, normally nothing could stop him from going there; once he boarded the train and Yui's giggling came to tickle the back of his neck it was over, he'd grovel on the ground until sleep claimed him or somebody pushed a sedative down his throat. "Stop moving!"

_**You almost hurt Asuka, **_the little boy clenched one of the chains that clung to his flesh. _**Now pay for it. **_He hissed again, turned his head violently to the right while his one useful hand held onto his face and clutched his forehead. _**Pay for it!**_ _**You can never hurt Asuka, never. Never! Remember that.**_

He felt the woman envelop his body in some form of weird embrace, limited by his crutched position and the wheelchair, and almost broke into a fit of sobs when her hands threaded through his hair. "Stop, Shinji, shhh… it's okay, it's okay. Stop moving around so much, just… relax… relax…"

Her voice somehow cut through the screaming, stifled the giggling to a degree for a few seconds, but then the boy in chains growled. _**No. You don't get to hurt her, anymore. **_He felt his right arm be sliced in two right then and there, the sensation felt so real his eyes actually opened and checked to see if the limb had not suddenly split in half. _**You don't get to touch her. You don't get to smell her scent. You don't get anything. **_His entire left side had turned into a cacophony of anguished limbs curled up together. The screaming increased; in between blinks he saw Asuka's body whole and dressed as it was, and then suddenly it would become the mangled version tattooed in his memory since Third Impact.

_I have a need for you. Pilot the Evangelion. Activate the Dummy System. I no longer have a use for you. What are you stupid? _"Shh… it's okay, Shinji. Listen to my voice." _Anta Baka?! I think you're supposed to smile. EVA is a part of me. Hey, kiddo! Why are you even here?! If you do not open your heart to EVA… Ikari-kun must survive. _"It's okay Shinji, tell me what it is. Tell me and I'll help, okay? Just breathe, relax…" _You must destroy the Angel. But Father, that's Touji! You must destroy the Angel. Kaworu! You lied to me! Hello, Shinji-kun. Decide. Decide. Decide. _"It's okay, Shinji, it's okay, tell me what it is, tell me how I can help." _Decide. Decide. Decide. Decide. Oh my God, Shinji…! Asuka is… Asuka is… K-Kaworu? I want to help you somehow, and be with you forever! Then don't do anything. All you ever do is hurt me. _"Just listen to my voice, focus on it, come on," _Don't abandon me! Don't kill me! __**No. **_"Tell me how I can help." _Turn him over! Hah, he went under. Yeah, fun times with the Third Child! Get off, it's my turn now! Ha, ha! He moved, look at that! Hit him in the head again. Move on over, I want a go before the sun comes up! __Ha ha… Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha! _"Shinji, tell me what's wro-"

"_**Get the hell away from me!**_" he bellowed, and in an instant Asuka had basically jumped off him with the agility of a jungle cat. He panted, coughed, and tried to control his erratic breathing. Shinji clenched his right hand and slowly opened his eyes; the hand was still covered in blood. He panted, coughed, shook his head and opened the lids once more, relieved beyond words to see his fist there, without crimson dripping from it, and that the alleyway and the ground had faded, replaced by the familiar surroundings of his balcony. The voices quieted to an extent, and as he next slowly shook his head, reason returned. He was awake still; the evil glint of emerald orbs narrowing in his direction had yet to emerge. The episode… had halted for the time of being.

"I'm sorry."

Depleted of most of his feeble energy, he barely registered that the words had left his mouth before even knowing what was being said. "I'm sorry," Shinji repeated, and glanced at the redhead. She was on her feet still, a safe distance away from him, but her proud poise looked… different. Her right hand was clutched in the center of her chest, knees bent ever so slightly, and uncertainty had tainted the overwhelming confidence he adored. More importantly, there were no longer any gaping holes in her body, and the dreaded Plug-Suit had been replaced by that large white shirt he remembered. He had scared her, and the fact made him both impossibly ashamed, and slightly relieved. "I didn't… I…" he struggled for words, too shaken by the fact that one of his episodes of neurosis had basically stopped all of the sudden, taking his desire to insult Asuka along with it. "I didn't mean… to make… ugh… sudden movements…"

_**You don't deserve to look at her, after all, **_the shackles rattled noisily in his brain, and Shinji turned his head down. He could not bear to see the expression of fear in her eyes anymore. The fact that it was the first time in over three years that he actually apologized and meant it did not go unnoticed by his overtired brain, regardless of how he had scared her. "I guess… I need a little something stronger than that Ninja Star, right about now."

Asuka breathed in deep, exhaled through the nose and forced the stupid fist to unclench. _He wasn't here, _she realized with something akin to a terrifying sense of déjà vu gripping at her. _Right now, he wasn't here at all. These little edible can't possibly have such an effect. He was… he was having visions, __**many**__ of them, just a few seconds ago. _While Shinji mistakenly believed it had been his outburst and guttural bark what had scared her, the truth was far grimmer than a simple yell. Even the way he screamed had been off; it had not sounded like it was directed to her at all. _I have an idea of what I'm dealing with, now._

Then, after both her arms lay by her sides and the breathing went back to normal, Asuka realized Shinji had just _apologized_. "Um…" he had just apologized to her, in that particularly unique way of his. "No, I…" she glanced at the balcony's door. "I just didn't want you to hurt yourself by being an idiot. I didn't mean to… ah…" _I wanted to hug you, _she thought, sounding so very young in her own mind. _I wanted you to hold me! What the hell is so wrong about that, huh?!_

Shinji shook his head, eyes still obscured and hidden under his palm. "It's not your fault. I'm just…" _Insane, deranged, broken, __**dangerous**__. _"I'm just tired," _What a night, _he pondered dispassionately. _What a fucking night… what else, she's gonna tell me I can't take any pills again, isn't she? _ "I need a few… things…" His hand was already about to force the wheel into movement; his left side was still numb and unresponsive so the crawl to his goods would be even slower this time. "Just need a few things…"

"I don't think I'll allow that," the response came as he had expected it, and soon enough the substance dependant in him began to take hold. There was no way in hell he was about to spend his first day at home after saving some little girl sober, and in the penance sobriety meant for him.

"And what are you gonna do about it?" demanded the injured youth more harshly than intended as his features once more wrinkled into a frown. "I almost tore open my stitches just now, I'm fucking shaking and I can't stop…(cough, cough)… I can't stop it. What else am I supposed to do, huh? Are you gonna stand on my door and not allow me entrance to my own damn hou-"

"I thought I told you to _**STOP YELLING**_!"

And just like that, as though he were being reprimanded by his father for some mischief, his jaw hinged closed and his eyes widened; he hadn't realized his voice had been growing louder with each word. Watching as the redhead fumed rooted to her spot and glared a hole right through him, Shinji realized even the itches and the shaking had halted for a moment.

Asuka growled low in her throat. _Great, just great. There goes my buzz, thanks for that, you idiot. I needed to be a little clear-head right about now, anyway. _She walked over to the former Third Child and wordlessly took a hold of the wheelchair. "God," she huffed, pushing him back into the kitchen. "I think I liked you better when you couldn't put two words together in front of me."

"Yeah, I bet you did," he wanted to complain and physically move the redhead away from him, already exhausted and infuriated beyond belief that for once in about five years he'd been left quiet as a mute. A small pill with a strange, gelatinous appearance dropped on his pants before he could voice out his latest complain. "And what is this supposed to be?" he squished the small pill between his thumb and forefinger. "Some sort of elephant tranquilizer, some methadone, morphine… what is this thing?"

"It's a pill that's gonna make the tremors go away for a while and help you sleep better," Asuka responded while she left him beside his bedroom door and went to retrieve the glasses left in the balcony. She refilled his and handed it over. "Now be a good boy and drink it. As an apology for almost smashing your caretaker's skull against your floor in her first night over, if you will."

His eyebrow twitched again. _There's something fishy about this, _he reasoned, gaze scrutinizing over the redhead's calm, collected expression and trying to find cracks in the façade. _Normally Misato's freaked out at this point, calling Kaji and telling him to come inject me with something before I push my skull against a wall. _He accepted the glass and swallowed the strange drug he was being offered without a second thought, the glass was already shivering in his hold and the young man had to concentrate fully on not spilling the water all over his legs. _How the… how did she do that? How did she stop me from… from going into Hell?_

"I already said I was sorry," A queer sense of awareness fell on him when the girl he swore to hate above all humans beside himself took the glass away to rinse it in the kitchen. "_You_ were the one with the incredibly awesome idea to hold my hand against your throat." Shinji took a look at his right hand, surprised to find the shaking was diminishing with unforeseen speed. Speaking with her, having her in the house somehow felt… right. The empty coffin which he called home was swiftly being changed, warped by the sheer presence of the former Second Child.

"Well," came the nonchalant reply. "I meant it. If you want to kill me, or if you want to try, I'd say you've earned a freebie. I'm not about to stand here in your house after seven years and pretend I didn't have it coming."

"Huh?" The left side of his body finally decided to stop clenching like a dying snake, which allowed Shinji to wheel himself closer to the redhead. "What? What do you mean by 'had it coming'?"

"Oh, come on, Baka, and here you are pretending to be the Big, Bad Wolf and you don't even play the game right?" When the statement succeeded in eliciting a baffled 'Eh?' from the idiot, Asuka dried up her hands and flicked her hair back once she faced him. "I was a bitch to you, Shinji. From the moment we met, to the last time we spoke. I was _always_ a bitch to you… for a lot of different, twisted reasons, and I know that no matter how much you want to downplay it,_ I_ betrayed _you_."

"You… betr-is this some sort of acid that you gave me?" He asked in return, actively scared by the fact that whatever drug she had given had had an almost immediate effect; he felt the anxiety reduce with every aching breath he took.

"No, it's not acid, and it's not a chemical either, Baka." A sad smile drew in her face. "But I did betray you, didn't I? I was supposed to be the top pilot, the strongest of all of us. I was supposed to be the big hero in the red cape, but I was weak," _The shaking stopped, his breathing is back to normal, and he's not looking through me or seeing something that's not there. _"I was weak," Asuka repeated, shaking her head. "I made you believe I was strong, and when it counted I left the battlefield, defeated by my own damn self of all things, and you were… the only one left."

_This isn't possible, _For about seven years, in his most private moments of resenting the people who had played a part in the loss of his sanity, Shinji had thought the exact same line she had just spoken. _She probably pulled a syringe when I wasn't watching. I'm probably asleep, and this is a dream. _Then again, since when were his dreams so pleasant? Since when did he see her in his head whole, and not butchered and dismembered? "Listen, that happened a long time ago," he found himself saying. "It doesn't matter."

_**No it doesn't, **_the damned brat agreed. _**It doesn't matter because she's here, now. We got to see her again. She's here. Nothing else matters right now.**_

"It does matter," The girl crossed her arms, scowling at him with something akin to disappointment. "Look at yourself. You're in a wheelchair, Shinji, with four stab wounds on the left side of your body. You can't sleep, you barely function on a daily basis, you take all sorts of drugs to cope with everything that's happened to yo-"

"How do you even know anything if you weren't h-"

"That's not the point, _**Baka**_!" She cut him off again, fuming. "I just _know_, okay?!" _You weren't the only one doing stalker stuff, you Absolute Idiot! _The message was sent with swift efficiency through the lines, and Shinji's teeth once again clicked when his jaw snapped shut. He understood what she had just implied, so the young man nodded, scowling, and turned to his left.

_I know about two years ago. I know what happened to you, and I know what __**you**__ did. So if you think those skeletons in your closet are going to intimidate me, you've got another thing coming. _

"Stop pretending it doesn't matter, Shinji," said the redhead with a much quieter tone of voice. "Even a blind man can see that it hurts you, and it's hurting you every day. It's been hurting you for years."

"How do you know?" Shinji challenged, unwilling to relinquish the argument. Without the craving need for substances that defined his moments of sobriety, he was being forced to feel. The act of feeling alone was excruciatingly painful, considering he'd been numb for over two years. "What do _**you**_ know?"

"I know about addiction, because I've been there." Shinji's expression quickly morphed into one of outrage, making Asuka feel even more secure about her decision to stay and nodded. _You can't even act like you don't care about me, can you? _ "I was addicted to a whole bunch of stuff. Well… I am, I just don't use them anymore. So spare me the bullshit story about how your drug use and your trauma are not in the slightest related. I believe you know I'm not stupid, and I know for a fact that you aren't that stupid, so let's stop pretending. Let's stop pretending I ever did anything to deserve more than the reaction you had that day in the living room. Let's stop pretending like I ever treated you with the tiniest of human decencies."

"You've… been there?" The boyish tone he next produced had Shinji blinking and shaking his own head. "Human decencies… what is all this?" His head felt like a balloon, ready to pop at any second, and with the fresh reminder of what had happened two years before, a fresh wave of nausea was blotting his vision. "Why are you saying all this crap?"

To his dismay and strange annoyance, Asuka's smile widened a fraction. "Because you want… you _need_ to hear it. And because if we're gonna spend the next few months together, I think we need to put all that _crap_ to rest on day one."

"I need to hear it?" he snapped back with clear irritation rolling off his tongue. "It's been seven years, Asuka. _Seven years_. I don't need to hear any of that shit, not anymore. What I did was horrible, I _am_ a horrible person, and I've made peace with that."

"Yeah, and you basically drug yourself to a coma every night because you've made peace with being a horrible person," she sighed dejectedly, and remembered there were a few final tasks to do before she accompanied Shinji to bed. "God, Baka, you've really worked hard on this face you put on," Circling in on the volatile, potentially aggressive and _very_ substance deprived youth, the girl ignored the warning in her head and took a firm hold of the wheelchair's grip. "If you worked half as hard on getting your _actual_ act together, who knows where you'd be." _Away from me, _her mind whispered, and despite the fact that Shinji was in unthinkable amounts of pain and discomfort at the moment, she felt relieved to be there. _Far, very far away from me. _

"I'd probably be dead," he responded with a dry tone, raising an eyebrow when Asuka turned his wheelchair so it was facing the couch. "Part of being a horrible person is doing a half-assed attempt at everything… heh… even dying."

He felt the wheelchair be halted with actual force behind it. "Well, you didn't die, however much you _half-assed_ attempted to end it that night, now do me a favor and get your _half-ass_ into that couch so I can take a look at those bandages. Unless, of course, you don't' feel strong enough to get to the couch by yourself, in which case I'd be happy to assist, Baka."

"And _there_ is the proof I needed that whatever this is, it's some twisted form of torture," he replied with sarcasm, forcing the one arm and leg still useful to him to comply. "The Great Sohryu…(pant)… Asuka Langley," he wobbled, painfully aware of how without the sedatives the wounds were stinging and hurting at full potential, and refused Asuka's helping hand as he took two cautions steps forward and slowly lowered his battered body to the soft cushion of his old sofa. "Offering assistance… (cough)… are you sure you came out from that puddle?"

"Don't misunderstand, Third," In the brief moment he had stood before her Asuka had noticed that Shinji was not only physically stronger than her, but also taller by about two inches. "I don't want you to trip on your own feet and open up my careful knitting work. Now be a dear and don't bite my hand off,"

"Huh?" he began, offering a disgruntled frown. "What, bite you? Why would I-hey!" His right hand closed in on Asuka's wrist before it could come in contact with him. "_**Don't**_." _Don't touch me, _he roared in his mind. _Don't sully your hands on me. _

_That is a __**strong**__ grip, _the girl pondered for her part, and tried to make sense of the many different lines and scars that ran all through Shinji's knuckles and fingers. "Can I have my hand back now, Baka? Or do you intend on keeping it as a souvenir?" She tugged the arm for emphasis. _Okay, I get it; touching's out the question for the time of being. I can respect that… for now. _"I need you to take off your shirt to clean the wounds, Shinji. And with that level of injuries, you can't really take it off on your own, can you?"

The boy's vice-like grip loosened; Shinji huffed and clenched his hand into a fist. "I didn't…" he started, suddenly at a loss on how to proceed. "I didn't mean that." _What. Why would I say that? _"It's just… sometimes I have flashbacks when people touch me and I'm not expecting it." _What the hell is going on?! Am I going crazy __**again**__?! _

"Copy that, Master Chef," nodding, Asuka felt herself smile again. "Now can you please stop being a pampered baby about this? The sooner I inspect those wounds, the sooner we can have some dinner and go to bed."

"Wait, so you made dinner, too?" The process of taking off the innocent clothing garment ended up being much more painful and uncomfortable than Shinji would have wished, but with Asuka's help he'd only been limited to lift his arms a bit and have her do the rest. "I really must be in some sort of torture chamber."

"Oh, you'll be swallowing those words after you try my cooking, Mr. Third," To say Shinji was impressed by the girl's efficiency while putting on gloves, cutting off the old bandages and clinically inspecting the slash on his back would have been an understatement. She was quick enough to make him feel mediocre for basically sitting next to him and displaying the new skills years of practice had brought about. "Hmm, okay, no suppuration, no pulled stitches, and no sign of infection whatsoever! Hah! The soft tisue's even turning red now. All right, now this might sting Baka…"

"Ow! What the f-"

"I told it might sting! Hold still!" She flicked him on the back of the head for good measure, eliciting a deep growl of annoyance from the young man. _I like that, he didn't use to growl at me before. _Thankful Shinji was not looking at the moment, Asuka let herself blush. _Damn, I really am pretty stoned, but not stoned enough_ _ to do a shitty job. _She inspected the cut's edges with ferocious scrutiny, and once satisfied that the stitches would hold even if Shinji began to convulse at night, dressed it back with bandages and moved on to his side.

"I'm not a freaking kid, nor a dog," Shinji snapped when she began unwrapping the bandages around his torso. "Don't do that shit."

"Then don't," she tugged on the lower slash with a bit of force behind it and heard the satisfying hiss of pain from her patient. "Be making sudden moves, Baka. And watch your mouth."

"Fuck off." –FLICK- The wrappings around the wound on his lower abdomen were tugged once more. "OWW! (Cough, cough)… what the fuck is your problem, Sohryu?!"

"Your potty mouth is my problem right now," she answered, eyes penetrating into what she believed to be the very worst of Shinji's injuries. "Now stay very still."

"Whatever."

The serrated knife had entered into his torso just at the right angle; whoever had stabbed him had relative, if not general knowledge of human biology at least. It was quite difficult to stab someone in the stomach successfully, without the blade hitting against a rib or cutting off more soft tissue than organ. Moreover, the gash had been widened by what she assumed to be extremely sudden movements; a good portion of his oblique had been punctured by the edges and the wound itself was both deep and wide. Even with the advancements in modern medicine and increased regeneration rates brought about by the serums NERV had manufactured, the wound was still all sorts of pink, red and blue all over. Evident signs of blunt force trauma were discernible; the bluish bruises she had seen on her first day treating him had already turned a light violet hue. Both sides of his ribcage had been damaged, with one rib broken at his right side and a second one cracked just under the point of incision.

"Shit," she heard herself mutter while cleansing the edges. Only imagining what it must have felt like to have such a nasty blade in her innards made her shudder; the thought reminded her of the EVA Series' attack, and her death. _He __**walked**__ after they did __**this**__ to him?! _ Asuka took a furtive glance at the former male pilot, who appeared to be lost in thought with the now familiar scowl of anger clouding his features. The edges were beginning to close and the lesion itself appeared as well as could be expected, yet the absurdity of being able to walk with such a wound perplexed and alarmed her. "Shit."

"Now who's being the potty mouth?" Shinji snapped, chuckled and hissed as the disinfectant was applied. "Do _I_ get to flick you on the forehead, now?"

"Do you want to?" Asuka demanded more than asked, focused on the task of leaving no possible way for infection to spread. "Go ahead, just don't distract me, and don't move. This won't hurt, but it'll feel cold." She took a bottle out the kit resting on the small table located between the television and sofa, and poured a generous amount of antibiotic cream over the stitches, noticing how Shinji's body would produce minimal flinches from time to time. "Ticklish there, Third?"

"Not really," he replied, and snorted despite his best efforts when Asuka attacked the particularly sensible area below his armpit. "I just had a knife in there a bit over a week ago, so I guess… (cough)…. Ahem… I guess you could say it's a bit sensitive at the moment." He breathed a sigh of relief after the new apposite was firmly in place. "I can't believe both my lung _and_ my stomach survived this shit."

FLICK

"What the fu-" FLICK "What the hell is your problem?!"

"Language." She quickly moved on to the less threatening incision located above the young man's hip. "Had that knife sunk in just half an inch higher, it could've cut your splenic artery and produced endless internal bleeding. It did manage to nick your left gastroepiphobic artery, which caused that horrible bleeding you arrived at the hospital with." A vast contrast of the other three, the next wound was only about an inch in length and had barely scraped the muscle tissue. "No sign of infection on this one either, now…"

Her eyes wondered between the man's worn out blue jeans, his scowling face, and then back; Asuka felt her cheeks turn slightly crimson. _What the __**fuck**__, Sohryu?! You've been with men, hell you've treated patients! What the hell is up with you?! _"Ah…" she mumbled, cerulean orbs uncertainly glancing down to the boy's thigh. "C-Could you…"

Shinji spared her a sideway glance and grumbled something she did not quite catch under his breath, seemingly _insulted_ by the fact that she was behaving shyly when asking him to remove his trousers. He maneuvered without a word with his right hand, hissed in pain when he forced the overtired, injured body to rise and blatantly refused Asuka's help with a fulminating 'Ikari Gendou' glare. _Don't be playing that little game with me, _he dragged the pants down to his knee, unconsciously clenching and unclenching his left fist. _I know about them, about your little lover partners. _The way the girl's cheeks reddened even more while lifting his boxers made his teeth grind. _I know about every last one of them. _

"Thanks," she quickly removed the gauze and tried to hide the strain on her heart as best as possible. The way he had just stared at her had felt like a physical blow and she was yet to recover, so the young doctor set about inspecting the wound, discouraged to find it was the only one which had bled to some extent. "Did you get up on your own at any point during this last week? Did you put strain on that leg?"

"Yeah, a man needs to take a piss sometimes, you know?" he snapped. There was plenty of time left; with about three forced weeks of immobility he could still predate upon Asuka's past deeds, on her fears, doubts, and on the encyclopedia of trauma she had endured; it was all safely stored in his brain, after all. It had honestly come as a surprise, and a very displeasing at that, to hear her admit she too had been caught in the endless maze that was drug addiction; the statement certainly had made the little brat rattle in the putrid cage he was held in. "I don't like…" The feeling of hands tearing off his clothes, fists smashing against his naked skin and the cold embrace of concrete made him shudder visibly. "I don't like… help… when I go to use the bathroom."

"That's understandable," _God, will you get it together already?! _The swell in the young man's leg was a clear indicator that he truly did run on a daily basis. The wound, however, had been close to cutting off that possibility, had the knife dug a bit deeper. "There was a bit of nerve damage in your leg," she explained, actively trying to gaze _only_ at the deep incision in Shinji's thigh. _Get your high little head outta the gutter right now! _ "We won't know for sure to what extent until this closes properly. Did the leg give you any trouble aside from the pain? Did it cramp up, did your foot or toes not respond properly?"

"Nah," Shinji said dismissively, but blinked and recalled one of his nightly visits to the toilet. "No, actually, it did that one time. My whole leg cramped up and my knee felt like it was about to explode."

Asuka nodded, inspected the edges of the cut and began to clean away the excess coagulated blood and liquid. "We can attribute that to the inflammation and strain of not having moved the joint in so long. Can you move your toes?" Shinji offered a stiff nod for his part, and growled low in his throat when the left foot began to move in small circles. "Good, good. That's good enough. Alright, they're all closing nicely. Hey, what's that?"

"What's what?" Shinji followed Asuka's line of vision and flinched when he felt the sting under his leg. "Ah!" Turning back to glare at the redhead, he saw the small empty syringe in her hand and the confident smirk he had longed to see for so long staring back at him. "Let me just tell you… that is a ridiculous technique."

"It got you to look away, didn't it?" Smirk ever present, Asuka rose and stretched after taking off the gloves and dropping the used items in a selected garbage bag. "Ahhh, now that wasn't so painful, was it, Baka? All patched up and ready to go! Are you hungry?"

"Not so painful my ass," Shinji whispered to himself, and for once accepted the help to get back to the blasted wheelchair; he felt very weak. "I could eat," _She's not stupid, she probably drugged me with something very strong, _he reasoned, letting himself be ridden to the table. Regardless of how exhausted he was, the scent of freshly made vegetable soup had him sniffing the air like a bloodhound. "Hmm, that smells good…"

"Tastes even better," commented the girl who had for so long been the one to haunt the rare good dream he had, laying a lukewarm trey next to him. "I know it's not much, but trust me, it'll make a difference." He nodded, half-asleep, and took the spoon.

"Aren't you eating?" Shinji asked and blinked heavily. Upon closer inspection, he realized the dish was more of a vegetable cream, and after the first taste he forgot all about Asuka, the wounds on his body, the need to consume a strong substance or anything that was not consuming what he had just been served. "More, please," the trey was taken away, refilled, and emptied a second time. "More, please,"

"Why, Baka, I think the munchies got to you," Asuka placed the third serving before him and secretly relished in the way the former pilot's eyes widened in hunger. "Does it have the stamp of approval of the Great Iron Chef, Ikari-san? Hmm? Does it need a bit more salt, maybe some more rosemary?"

"It needs to be eaten," Shinji managed between spoonfuls, and once he was done collapsed back into his chair, satisfied. "That hit all the right spots." Asuka was positively beaming beside him, so Shinji allowed drowsiness and auto-pilot to take command. "Thank you for the food."

"You're welcome, Baka-Shinji. Now you can say this is the first _and_ second time I've ever offered you anything. Quite the deal for a first day, huh?" She wheeled the all but unconscious young man to his room, already dreading how his keen senses might react to the new scent on his sheets.

"…Yeah… (yawn)… what the hell… was that pill…?" All of the sudden his bed lay before him, sheets already drawn back. Where were the tremors? Where was the fear of losing consciousness? Where were the visions? "It hit me… harder than Zeruel did… damn…"

"Oh, stop being so dramatic," It took Asuka's overly relaxed body more than a little effort to lift Shinji's physique off the chair and deposit him as softly as possible in the bed, luckily the boy was fairly compliant this time around, not even raising to object as she removed his pants and drew the covers over him. "It's a concentrate of Valerian, passion flower, lemon balk and skullcap. You must be exhausted with the new serum accelerating your metabolism to such an extent. That aside," She smirked widely at him. "You are now officially experiencing the _full_ effect of my friend Joey's Ninja Death Star."

"You're kidding…" Shinji mumbled, breathing in deeply. There was… a very unfamiliar and pleasant smell all over him, one which for once invited him to relinquish consciousness and rest. "That… little thing… did this…?" He blinked, noticing how it kept getting harder and harder to focus on Asuka's red locks and not on the scent invading his nostrils. "How come you're… so… ?"

"Fresh?" Asuka finished for him as she finished pouring a fresh glass of water on the young man's night stand. "Oh, you don't get to just eat the one when you're with uncle Joey, Baka. I kinda cheated today to be honest, having a considerably unfair advantage over you. But yeah, they're certainly deadly on your first try. It'll help you sleep, and I do mean sleep," A small wrinkle of concern manifested in Shinji's tired face. "Don't worry," unsure of how close or far away she should be, Asuka stood uncomfortably a few feet away from Shinji's bed. "It really does wonders for the nightmares, and… and I'll be outside if you need anything, okay?"

"…Feels like a dream…" She heard Shinji mutter. "…You're here… taking care of me…" he chuckled, hissed and coughed in quick succession. "Maybe… I really _am_ dead…"

"Not yet, Baka," _He literally does not have the strength nor the clarity of mind to resist. Attack! _She placed her hand on Shinji's hair, ruffling the overgrown locks and enjoying how Shinji seemed to purr at her soft ministrations. _No, we're not dead, neither of us. There's still a fighting chance. _She let her nails scratch ever so slightly against his scalp. "Not yet…"

"…Where are _you_… sleeping…?" The small smile widened a bit more, the last time she had stood by his bed and spoken with him, Shinji had done little else than mock her and request she leave. Now, in their second meeting after seven years, he was demonstrating a slight flicker of concern.

"I guess I'll have to take your couch since Rei's room is out of the question, but I'll have a futon or something sent to me tomorrow at first light," She ruffled his hair a bit more, and rose to exit the bedroom. "There's water next to you, your crutches are on your right and I left your bathroom door open. Sleep tight, Baka."

She was about to exit and retrieve some blankets from her travel bag when Shinji's voice rang just a bit louder. "Rei's… room? What is… Rei's room?"

"W-Well," Caught off guard, hungry and in desperate need for one of Shinji's beers, Asuka refused to turn back. "I mean, it's obvious that the other room in your house was specifically prepared for her, you know. I mean, it's okay, I get it. You two were… pretty close and you're waiting for her, which is perfectly fine! So I'll take the couch tonight and d-"

"Asuka…" the boy interrupted, cutting off her tirade. "Rei… is _**dead**_. That… is supposed to be… _your_ room…"

"Huh?" It appeared that for once in recent memory, the annoying red dog in her gut had been rendered just as speechless as she had. "M-My room…? B-But it's so bleak! Why would you even… ah…"

"…Thought you'd want… to decorate… yourself…" he added; his lids closed and felt too heavy to open again. "…Thought you'd tell me… I have…(yawn)… no taste… or something…" And just like that, the potent effect of the Ninja Star manifested and leveled Shinji's breathing, a clear indicator he had lost the battle for awareness.

She stood there by his door in a weird sort of trance, listening to his shallow, erratic breathing and the random hiss he'd produce in his sleep. Angry cerulean orbs drew over to the closed door that faced Shinji's kitchen, the only location in the small house where she had scarcely even bothered to clean. The blankets on the bed had not been changed, the corners had not been dusted; she had blatantly refused to enter the sleeping space.

_My… my room…? _

She bit her lip whilst focusing on the many pieces of information acquired that night, desperately held onto the procedures and steps she had gone over endless times, and despite however much she wished for the jealousy and anger to sharpen her mind as they usually did, the former Second Child's train of thought derailed. She looked over to the sleeping figure; even in his sleep Shinji was frowning, his brow furrowed in slight grimace, breath catching as he twitched and the wound on his back, stomach or leg complained against the sudden movement.

_You… you've been keeping this room… this empty room… ready for me. After I didn't speak to you for __**seven years**__, after I abandoned and betrayed you… You… _"Are you stupid?" She muttered under her breath, gaze fixed on the young man's face. For reasons she was yet to understand, at some point during her silent watch he took several slow, deep breaths; the frown melted at last and for the first time in seven years Asuka saw the Shinji she remembered.

He looked tired, unhealthy, and unhappy.

Tiptoeing to his bed, Asuka crouched and placed a delicate kiss on his forehead. _Some years ago I would've never imagined I would miss this. _The familiar, unguarded expression in the young man's face felt like a breath of life in her chest. _It's sad, really, _she pondered, and crouched beside his bed without knowing exactly what she was doing. _The world ended, and started over. I ran away, and you… _Shinji rolled over to his right side, letting her catch a momentary glimpse at the scar below his left bicep. _You held the fort, alone. A monolith, damaged by the constant pass of time, but still unwilling to turn to dust. I wonder, _She placed a hand on his left shoulder and squeezed reassuringly. _When was the last time you had a good dream, Baka? _

Her stomach grumbled, and her dry throat made itself known after a few precious heartbeats. She had been terrified of this sensation seven years before; the comfort of being near him, the knowledge that there was another person in the face of the planet who could relate to her in any way. The stupid little boy who had outclassed her without meaning to, the one person she wanted to be saved by, and the one whose help she had refused in the most important moment. And still, seven years after he had a room ready for her in his house. _The fact that he went from cute to handsome is a pleasant surprise, as well, I'd say, _she giggled again, almost broke into an uncontrollable fit of laughter and left Shinji's room, careful not to fully close the door.

Uncle Joey's Ninja Stars were working their magic.

Once she had retrieved a can of the Spanish piss Shinji collected, and made herself a generous peanut butter jelly sandwich, Asuka opened the door to the bedroom and let herself fall on the mattress. A click, four gulps and the redhead grumbled in disappointment, stood once more and stole a second beer. _Boy, am I tired today, _she devoured the sweet treat in seconds, starved by the hunger that accompanied her buzz, took a second swig of beer, and lay down on the bed. _He kept looking at my hair, _she picked a random lock and inspected it under the relative darkness. _He still likes it, huh. _

"_**Get the hell away from me!**__" _

Frowning at the ceiling, the girl propped her head up with her arm, left leg swinging out of bed, and began to analyze. _He wasn't even talking to me, it sounded like… like what you'd say if someone… insists on touching you. _The way his eyes had turned glassy and wide with fear from one moment to the next was a clear indicator of momentary lapses where he'd have visions; even if he had not yet told a soul exactly what he was seeing, where and how, she had a rough idea of what some of it could be. She took a third gulp, can dangling in her fingers.

"Keler…" she read in the dark. "Donostia… 1890…hmm," The taste was still not something she was keen to get used to soon. The look Shinji had given her during the brief exchange as she cleaned and redressed the wounds made her tremble lightly; an accusatory glare barely disguised in righteous anger which seemed to tell her exactly what she had said to him.

_I know what you did. _

"Shinji, if you knew the skeletons in my closet," she mumbled, finishing the can and placing it softly on the nightstand, her nightstand. "They're all over… in my bedroom, over my faucet. You're not the only one who fell down the hole, Baka. I fell, I fell _hard_."

The noose constricted against the apparition's neck, drawing Asuka's heavy lids to where Kyoko was currently hanging. A vast opposite to most of her appearances, now the decomposing figure held the doll in its hand and dangled from the ceiling, noose supported by nothing. Shinji had killed people, actual people, breathing human beings with regular metabolic function, with his bare hands. He hadn't used a pistol or even a knife on more than one of the victims, if the reports she had stolen held any truth behind them. Indeed, the case had been dismissed the moment it had arrived in court; five grown men, renowned gang members and criminals, against one twenty-year-old boy who was, on top of everything, both a national hero and an international celebrity.

_**Now, now, Schätzling. Remember what Misato told you about that, **_the voice of her mother suggested, sounding vaguely amused. Everything was always funny to her; there was always a smile or a smirk, just like in Asuka's memories. _**We don't want your boy to jump out the window in an effort to forget that, do we now? Or maybe you do want it… After all, that young man right there is nothing compared to the sweet little boy you've always told me about. Are you having second thoughts already, Asuka dear?**_

"If I could have one, just _one_ detail of my life removed from my memory, it would be you, not him, Mother," she spoke to the darkness, to the figure that wasn't there, to her new room; she spoke to herself. "His mental state is… deplorable, at best. Visions that come and go like that are not your regular occurrence… and regardless of whether or not it's dangerous, I will need to speak to him about two years ago, at some point."

The lips of Kyoko stretched impossibly wide, the noose produced a dreadful sound as it tightened on her neck and the woman's face turned an even darker shade of violet. _**Oh? **_It intoned with a faint spark of surprise. _**And will you tell him about how you almost hung yourself that day, hm? Will you tell him about what you did **__**after**__** you found out? Will you now, Schatz? Why, while you're at it, why don't you tell him about David? I'm sure he'd love to hear that story, my love! Or perhaps about Fabio, or Möritz? **_

The look in his eyes had been vaguely familiar; she recognized the sentiment behind it with little to no trouble and remembered that her personal life was the constant material of talk shows, irrelevant news and pointless magazines. "Something tells me… that he already knows about it, and…" Possessive rage was also a subject she was well versed in. "He won't take too kindly to me even mentioning it."

With the shattered vertebrae cracking under the violent movement, Kyoky turned her head to the side and observed her as a curious beast would while stalking its potential prey. _**But my dearest, what does it matter? You were never even together, you were never even friends! You've grown, matured, it's a part of life to experience your own sexuality, dear. And besides, **_the head whipped to the other side, ones screeching. _**It's not like he hasn't done his share of fucking around, has he? **_

"Sometimes, on days like this where there's so much shit to sort out in my head," commented the redhead, quickly losing interest in the pointless discussion with the manifestation of her fears, pride, anger and grief. "I kind of wish I hadn't gone off the pills."

_**Oh, my sweet baby girl, **_offering the doll which continued to cry blood through its button eyes, her mother laughed. _**Are you telling me you'd be ashamed to tell him? If he already knows, then surely he will ask! And being how he is right now, he will probably try to hurt you, terribly. He is so very angry, that boy. Are you certain that the choice you made two years ago is the right one, my darling Asuka? **_

She massaged her neck in reminiscence; the noose had certainly offered a bit of respite, and the promise of oblivion. "I've already been through more shit in twenty-two years than most people do all their lives," There were so many scars in Shinji's body; the skin around both his knuckles looked as though he had seared it off, repeatedly, until nothing short of a gnarled mass of callous and hardened tissue remained. His fingers were covered with slashes that went from imperceptible to deep cuts which most definitely had required stiches. There were… discolorations on his back, large ones which normally occurred when a victim fell off a bicycle or moving car and into the street, where the asphalt burned away the skin. His knees felt rough to the touch, she had counted at least four more knife wounds, a hefty gash on his lower abdomen product of a blade or a very sharp edge, and all sorts of small scratches on his face.

Of all those injuries, she only knew the story of the small mark on his back. "I want to know how he got every one of those marks," she said. "He's survived them all, just like I've survived." Asuka glared up at the hanging corpse. "He can ask me whatever he wants, he can say whatever he wants and do whatever he wants. I won't move, I won't leave." Yawning and stretching over the brand new bed, her bed, the muscles and joints unwounded, but she immediately noticed the lack of Shinji's scent. "He didn't give up on the idea that someday I'd want to see him, and he kept this room ready for that. Even if he… died… this would've still been my room."

_**Yes... what a pathetic, sad little boy, **_Kyoko laughed again, cackling with the same deranged tone the young redhead had used during her first mental breakdown, back when her father had held her despite her constant efforts to scratch and bite him, gouge out his eyes, escape and blow her brains out. _**Waiting on my darling baby all this time. And what have you been doing again? But, course! Making Mama proud, yes? So many awards you've collected, so many titles, sooo much studying; my dear Asuka, Valedictorian of the University of Berlin, number one intern in the Charité Krankenhaus! Even the world has finally woken from its slumber and now calls you the number One Pilot! The Great Sohryu Asuka Langley!**_

"I was never number one pilot," she muttered, effectively done with the exchange. She wanted sleep, needed rest to think sharply on the next stage of her plan and carefully design a situation in which Shinji could make contact with the boy he had been so long ago. "He was the best, regardless of Synch Rates. He has the most kills, the most field action, the most battle experience, and he did break any and all synch records in history." Shrugging to the corpse's quickly vanishing smile, the girl ignored the baying red mutt trashing somewhere between her ribcage and stomach. "I'm sorry to break your bubble, mother, but I am _not_ the best pilot in the world. I am the best in everything else, though. I'm certainly the only person qualified to help Shinji right now."

The older woman's eyes hardened like stones, for once glaring at the younger redhead. _**What, **_she spat, head dangling to the right. _**Now a junkie can help another junkie? Don't make me laugh. That look in his eyes terrifies you. How much longer do you expect to survive the presence of this sickening little t-**_

"If you insult Shinji," she growled menacingly, blue eyes narrowing toward the vision. "Then we have nothing more to talk about, you and I. You better choose your next words carefully, _mother_."

The apparition snarled at her, showing yellow, decaying teeth, hissing like a wounded snake and puking up rotting blood into the floor; only to qualm the erratic shaking a second afterwards, and offers yet another loving glance. _**So, what was tonight's assessment, Frau Doctor? Does the dear little patient show signs of schizophrenia, sociopathic behavior, animalistic urges, and hallucinations? Does the nice little patient show signs of eliciting hysterical strength in cases of extreme stress? Does he show signs of profound Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, does he shake when withdrawal symptoms begin to manifest? **_Kyoko Zeppeling Sohryu dropped the doll into the floor, but Asuka never heard the small pop of the fabricated little girl hitting the ground. The corpse began to wilt and disappear under the darkness just as exhaustion began to close Asuka's lids. _**Is our dear little patient **__**nuts**__**, my darling?!**_

"No," the young woman answered, head lolling back to inspect the covers. While the blanket was of a light gray color on the surface, even in the relative gloom of midnight she noticed the vibrant red staring back at her. Even through unimaginable mental torture, Shinji recalled that she preferred the damned color above any other. "He's insane."

The figure of her dead mother giggled, fading at last, and Asuka's eyes shut.

She had no clue of how bad Shinji's nightmares were, but if they were half as bad as hers, she was tremendously grateful to have brought a very generous amount of edibles and Ninja Stars of Death. That night, she dreamt of them. The images of the men she had lain with flashed over and over, and in every encounter she could see him, from the corner of her eye she caught a glimpse of him. He had watched Misato surrender to the pleasures of the flesh to forget during Third Impact, but his eyes had been different then, something frighteningly recognizable. The betrayal was there, the anger, the jealousy and the hatred, but there was also something new. It followed her through each event, forcing the young woman awake twice through the night; it haunted her when she visited the bathroom and looked at herself in the mirror, and it stalked her through the uneasy sleep afterwards.

The look in his eyes threw her own words back at her, and once she rose at 5.12am in the morning of the next day, chest heaving, Asuka discovered she had no response, no suggestion, no comment, not even a snide rebuttal. Shinji's words were poison lately, but the silent messages a simple glare had transmitted ached more than any insult he could ever come up with.

The simple, undeniable truth was many a time the best weapon, after all.

"_If I can't have you all to myself, then I don't want you at all."_

**TBC…**

* * *

Inspirational Music: **Oats in the Water**\- Ben Howard, **Hurt, God's Gonna Cut You Down**\- Johnny Cash, **Way Down We Go** – Kaleo, **Hello, Insane, Drug Ballad, Must be the Ganja, Déjà Vu** – Eminem, **Sanitarium, Spit out the Bone, Blackened, The Shortest Straw** – Metallica, **Constant Motion, Paralyzed, On the Backs of Angels, Bridges in the Sky, Outcry** – Dream Theater, **Cold Blood**\- Dave Not Dave.

_AN: There. Holy Christ. I mean, I truly have no idea if this stuff that I'm publishing is worth the read or not, but hot damn, it was one hell of a ride to write! I spent all day in a weird trance, didn't even eat until it was night. I almost missed Game Of Thrones last- night! _

_Are those Ninja Stars a thing? Yes, yes they are. Do NOT try them if you've never puffed a joint before. Trust me, the effects we see in this story, I've seen in real life. Cocaine addicts just… deactivated all of the sudden. That stuff is powerful, just ask Joey Diaz.__How does Shinji fight in this story? With the same viciousness of Robbie Lawler, and way less technique lol. Will it matter at all? In the coming chapters, sure. _

_Ups, downs, nice little moments intermingled with regret and madness, horniness in the middle of a serious situation, hate and love, anger and happiness all together, and at the end a little sweetness with sorrow! Insane! … I hope. _

_Anyway, Insane is done, next is Bagpipes from Bagdhad! Get yourselves some red wine, everybody! So, even with all the dark elements in this story, it is clearly a lot… livelier than my previous installment. As stated before, I'm actually trying to give this story its own… charm? Changing the narrative a bit, making the development different, and so on, letting the thing flow as the muse takes the wheel. Lots of things have not yet been addressed because… well, because of reasons. There's lots of chappies to go! Still, no clue whatsoever where this is going, no honest clue. _

_I hope it's worth the read, anyhow. Let me know if the quality sucks! _

PEACE_. _


	4. Bagpipes from Bagdhad

_AN: Yup, they keep on coming. Imagine this consistency in my previous story! Hah! Nah, I mean, I'm home, which always allows me to spend some time reading and writing. Just finished another of Faulkner's classics yesterday afternoon, enjoying some rum and a good Cigar. Today I decided to add a little bit to this piece, so, chappie four is done! Hope you like it!_

_I own nothing._

_Locked in Mariah's wine cellar all I had for lunch  
Was red wine, more red wine, and Captain Crunch  
Red wine for breakfast and for brunch  
And to soak it up an in between snack, crackers to munch  
Mariah, what's ever happened to us, why did we have to break up?  
All I asked for was a glass of punch  
You see, I never really ask for much  
I can't imagine what's going through your mind after such  
A nasty breakup with that Latin hunk-_

* * *

Chapter Four: Bagpipes from Baghdad

_Scavenging for food or shelter had long since become unnecessary; the cargo jets, ships and trucks had quickly taken over the manual labor, so that in very little time machinery was picking up the remains of what once had been buildings. He let the monotonous drone accompany him as he walked through uneven stones, rocks and debris in search of… in search of a familiar blue mass of hair, or, in his wildest and impossible dreams, a mane of crimson. _

_The sun felt hot against his neck, the ratted clothes provided little to no comfort as they clung to his body and made the walking uncomfortable. The trip to the crater and back was a tricky one, it went through haft-destroyed, inhabited living quarters which had taken little time to fill with small criminals, robbers, pick-pockteres and addicts. He felt the hungry eyes of a junkie as he passed by him, shuddered after mistakenly stealing a glance at the man's face, and redoubled the speed of his pace. He had no money; whatever the Japanese, German, American, Russian and Chinese governments paid him, he simply gave away. _

"_It's not my money," he whispered, darting glances at his surroundings and happy the terrifying neighborhood with the old, bearded man and his empty eyes was behind. "I didn't do anything to earn it…" Thousands had died in NERV's attack alone, thousands. "It's blood money," he shook his head, frowning slightly. "I don't want their blood money. Don't you think so, Asu-" He idiotically turned to his left, where she had preferred to walk, and soon his frown melted into sadness and resentment. "Oh," he whispered, and kept walking on the lonesome, empty streets. "That's right… sometimes I forget…" He barely took notice of where his feet took him, lost in thought. "Sometimes I forget… I'm all alone now… again…"_

_Misato was busy; at the very least that detail had not changed. She and the ghostly apparition of Kaji had gone back together and now ran the Tokyo Police Department with an iron fist in an effort to better the city's living conditions. She continuously told him it was for his own sake, she was protecting him, ensuring nobody had the original idea of putting another bullet through his belly. He would come home to an empty house after school, if the sad little meetings of about twelve of the former thirty students could be call class, cook dinner, eat, clean, and then sit there, on his bed, and try not to fall asleep. _

_He was about to turn the corner which lead to their latest living quarters when the screams reached him._

"_Hey, look! Look, you guys! There he is!"_

"_Is he… yeah! That's him! Let's go!"_

"_What?! Hey! Wait for me, you jackasses, wait up!"_

_Alarmed by the following footsteps and the three to four youngsters now hot in his tail, Shinji forced his feet to move faster even when that meant upsetting his still healing ribs. The boys behind him looked about his age, dressed in casual clothing considering it was a Sunday, but the way they had so deviously smirked as he passed had alerted Shinji's nearly permanent paranoia. _

"_Hey! Heeeeeey! Shinji! Ikari Shinji! Ikaaaariiiii Shinjiiiiiii Hey, man, stop!" _

"_Come on, hero! We just want to shake hands and say hello! No harm in that!" _

"_Yeah, man! Talk about being mean to your fans! Hey, come on! Are you gonna start running now"_

_He was, actually, actively starting to jog a bit faster to get away, back to the empty house where there were no Asuka nor Pen Pen, no Misato and no home, yet just as he was about to round the corner and run at full gas, he slammed against someone much taller than him, sending the boy to the ground._

_As he hissed and massaged the stll tender area of his lower back, Shinji blinked and saw… "T-Touji?" The boy in front of him had black track suit, exactly the type he remembered from the sport-loving friend from school; everything else, however, was different. This man was taller, older, buff in the chest and more than unfriendly, if his eyes were an indicator. _

_The new one began cracking his knuckles just as the small entourage reached them. "Well, lookie here," he said, anger and morbid satisfaction emanating off his voice. "The famous Third Child, great War Hero, comes to this neck of the woods to pay us poor mortals a visit. Come now, boys, let's show out guest some proper etiquette, shall we?"_

_Scared, alerted and injured, Shinji was basically helpless as the youngsters took him each by the arm and hoisted him to his feet. He struggled against their hold as fear morphed into panic and the very sensation of having hands on his body began to trigger an episode. "Now, mr. Hero. I think we ought to explain or local hospitality a little bit," _

_A fist slammed into Shinji's stomach, stealing his ability to breath. "You see," the oldest and largest one said. "All of us, here, decided to live like this. We could go to the UN, get a case going and we'd have a house in no time! But this is where we **lived**, you get that, don't you, hero?" _

_Still coughing from the previous attack, Shinji only managed to grind out a 'please' before he was hurled back to his feet and another fist dug into his stomach. This time, the third youngster opted to participate and punched him near the temple, turning Shinji's vision into a grayish mass of globs. He did feel the kick right on his sternum, though, even when he never saw it coming. _

"_There, now that's a little bit better, huh, hero?" He was picked by the hair, and the eldest slammed his forehead viciously against that of the former Third Child. Shinji felt something hard and metallic slam against the back of his skull a second afterwards. "Hey, be careful here!" The leader demanded. "I'm having a conversation with this piece of shit!"_

"_Screw your conversation!" The third youngster squeaked, tube held firmly in his hand. "This bastard's the reason why our neighborhood looks like fucking Mad Max's movies! He's the reason my mother's dead!"_

"_Yeah, my father's shell-shocked because of him! And my aunt never came back!" The boy holding his left arm provided, and sunk a knee in Shinji's soft tissue, forcing coughs out the former pilot. "Okata, your turn!" Then, from his right side a foot lifted and impacted flush against his face; the sickening crack of cartilage being smashed immediately forced tears out of Shinji's face. Why would they do this to him? Why were they hitting him? Why… The next kick came from the leader, the shoe crashed against the left side of his jaw. "I.." he tried between assaults. The boy who held the tube ran it across his right knee, forcing Shinji to the ground; both youngsters released his arms and the boy fell unceremoniously to the broken-down pavement. "I'm… I'm sorry."_

"_Huh?" The largest one said, raising an eyebrow. "What'd you say, Ikari?"_

"_I'm… sorry," he repeated, and disregarded the leaking of blood that came from his skull and was begging to taint red the right side of his face. "I'm so sorry… I didn't mean… to hurt your families… I swear…" he implored, openly crying. He was two steps away from falling back into the pit of hallucinations, had the eldest one not hauled him back to his feet. _

"_What did you say?" The boy bristled, showing perfectly white teeth. He certainly was on the right way of seventeen, Shinji thought, tall, strong, good dentition, good looking. Why would someone like him waste time on the unholy Third Child? "Do you think you can just grovel at our feet and we'll forget that it was __**you**__ who did all this?!" A kick straight the base of his stomach had Shinji on his back again, trying to crawl away from his attackers as tears refused to stop dripping down his chin. "Beat on this nobody!" Bellowed the leader, and began to rain kicks down his physique. "Fuck him up! It's not like we have to worry about Sohryu, anymore! Come on! Come on! Beat the living shit out of him!" _

_The four of them launched a brutal combined offensive, kicking and hitting every available inch of his body, and inside, in his brain and subconscious, Shinji sought out a shelter but found nothing but screams, and blood. "Please…" He uttered between kicks. "Please, stop, I'm sorry…" A kick almost smashed directly against his teeth, had Shinji not closed his mouth in that exact moment, and instead it opened up a gash on his upper lip. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry."_

"_Sorry for what, you useless little shit…!" Came the ragged reply from one of the youngsters. "This is what you deserve, you demented murderer! You killed my sister, you asshole! You killed her and she was only three years old! Fuck you! Fuck you!" A foot implanted itself repeatedly just a few inches under where his rib had been broken and pushed into his ribcage, pushing out all the air Shinji thought he owned. "Go to hell, Ikari!" _

_**And where do you think I am, right now? **_

_In between the endless kicks and punches, in between the slams and insults, Shinji blinked, and he was back in the battlefield, with Unit 02's pieces clung in the bloodied hands of the EVA Series, being brought to him like trophies, mementos of the victory. Kaworu had seemed so peaceful, so convinced that he would flourish in this new life as both him and Rei had pushed him out of the LCL… he had looked just as peaceful when he had turned the Angel's body into wet paste. His father… Ikari Gendou, had tasted a little bit like stale chicken when he had bitten him in half. And then… Asuka had left, and he was alone with Mother, alone with the voices. The voices, the voices, they began to scream right into his eardrum and muted whatever insults were being thrown his way. Some of them whispered, some of them suggested, others roared in rage, others cried in muted horror and despair. Some melted under the flamethrower, others were filled with bullets, others were stabbed, but most… most just managed a horrified gasp as Lilith set about collecting the world's united consciousness. Asuka screamed, long and loud in his ear, when the Spear penetrated her eye socket. _

_ Something __broke __inside of him. _

_Yet another foot planted against Shinji's head just as his right hand crawled a picked a relatively large piece of debris. Nobody was coming to rescue him; nobody was going to stop these youngsters from beating on him. All around the decayed living area the neighbors watches with sick little smiles drawn on their faces, enjoying the public punishment of their tormentor. A foot dug into his gut, his head was lifted by the hair and punched so thoroughly his skull produced a wet crack as it impacted the ground. Not a single person was going to do anything at all; they were all happy to watch him be pummeled to death for no particular reason. _

_**Then…**_

_The stone was clutched so hard in his palm that the sharp edges had already dug into his skin. A single bloodshot eye turned to glare up at the biggest one, the eldest youth who continuously kicked him either in the stomach or the head. He wasn't sure what sort of look there was in his eyes then, but it seemed terrible enough to freeze the boy in mid-attack. Shinji snarled, and to the shock and fear of everybody in attendance, began to rise back to his hands and knees even as kicks rained down on him. Asuka was gone, Rei was probably dead, Misato had abandoned him once more. There was nothing. Nothing. Nobody. This was the reality he had fought for, the world he had given up Instrumentality for. This was… home. _

_**Then everybody can go… and die…**_

_He caught the foot coming towards his face with his left hand, and in the blink of an eye Shinji had risen back to his feet. The boy's dumbfounded expression was washed away as the stone held in the former pilot's right hand cracked him around the jaw with so much force that blood came out his face where the stone's edges shredded the skin. Before the boy could fall onto the rubble, the hand carrying the stone blasted on the opposite side of the boy's head. _

_The body fell limp on the ground, and the bloodied stone was clutched harder against Shinji's battered fingers. He wasn't crying anymore, he wasn't moping, was definitely not pathetically groveling at existence. No. He was __**angry**__._

"_W-W-What the hell was that?" The second one said. Shinji moved slowly, barely blinking, face half-covered in blood, and picked up the small tube. "Screw it, it's still three on one!" The big one suggested, and rushed him. "Get him!"_

_Just as the boy was about to finish his tackle Shinji moved with agility he didn't know he had, raised the tube and smashed it against the back of the boy's head. Two more came to him in an attempt to seal his movements, but to the former pilot they felt more like pillows than actual humans. "Come on, hit him, hit him!" One said while raining blind punches to his face. Shinji grinned, unbeknown to him, and drove his knee deep in the boy's crutch. The other one he grabbed by the head, always smirking, and head-butted him once, twice, thrice. On the fourth time he heard the cartilage crack just like his own had, so he let the boy fall to the ground, unconscious. _

"_Come on," he repeated without thinking; blood dribbled down his nose and head and stained the rubble under him. "Come on… it's three on one…" he spat on the ground, predatorily circling into the biggest one, who was currently holding his head like a small child and hissing. He stood over the boy now, straddling him, adrenaline pumping into his system. The first punch was unconscious, the second one was not, and the third one felt incredible. He found small holes in the boy's pathetic turtle defense, raining heavy punches from any and all angles available. "Come on," he muttered after a hammer fist made the boy's head bounce in the concrete. "Come on… come on…" How long did he lay there, hitting the boy without respite? "Come on… come on… come on!" _

_Once his arms were too exhausted to move, once the voices in his head had quieted down to some extent, Shinji blinked and looked around himself. Under his legs lay the misshapen, blotted and disfigured face of the young man who had attacked him; there were lacerations both over and under the boy's both eyebrows, his right eye was swollen shut, his lips were inflamed and purple, and tears continuously cascaded down as the small, frightened whispers of his victim brought the former Third Child back to reality._

"_(Sob)… P-P-P-Please…. N-n-n-o more…." He boy trembled under him. Shinji stood shakily, body dripping sweat and forehead dribbling blood. Once is eyes settled, he realized the amount of fearful gazes which stared at him in muted horror from the windows, the streets and the sidewalk. He blinked, raising his hands; and felt the meager breakfast he had consumed lurch back to the surface when he realized they were covered in crimson._

"_I… I…" His once hardened, deadly glare quickly became the sad frown which had for so long identified him. "I… I didn't… I'm so-" And the he cut himself off, hands shaking. He had done this, he had enjoyed it; beating on so many enemies, nothing to think about or remember beside the next opponent in front of him. Like piloting EVA, he was able to unwind, let the anger out, scream, yell, trash and destroy to his leisure. Why then, why oh why, did it make him feel like the lowest scum in the face of the Earth? "I… I didn't want…" __**You didn't want to what, kill them? **__His mind provided; Shinji's frightened gaze travelled through the many eyes observing him, and found the same look in each and every one of them. Fear, disgust and rage came to greet him. __**Liar. You like this. You love this. You are an animal, a beast, a monster, a killer. This is what monsters do, they cause fear, and they cause carnage. It wasn't enough to take family members from them, was it? **_

_The boys he had just pummeled to the ground were curled up like dying snakes, shaking, whimpering, bleeding and unwilling to move. "No… I… I'm not…" __**You're not what? **__His own voice answered. Shinji's feet began to move on their own, turning to stare at the shocked, unfriendly faces that surrounded him. __**You're not a killer, hmm? Then who killed that boy's family? Who blew this place to hell? Who didn't fight when it mattered the most? And now, after everything you've done, you can't even sit around and let your victims take their justice. Pathetic.**_

_His hands, his bloodied hands were shaking with fear, shock and paranoia, his feet moved unevenly as he went back in the direction he'd come from, chest heaving with dread and pain. The voices laughed and laughed, screamed, bellowed, cried out and accused him. "I'm not…" Misato told him, practically on a daily basis, that Third Impact had not been his fault. "I'm not… I didn't…" _

_He tripped, falling heavily onto the broken floor and worsening the gash on his upper lip, but Shinji only got back to his feet and ran. He had no clue where he was going, or what he was doing at the moment. One thing was clear enough; he needed to forget. Only for a little while, only for a few minutes, a few seconds, he needed to forget. _

"_AAHHHH!" A terrified scream left his battered throat when Unit 02's head manifested before him, eyes dangling off the sockets and blood all over the ground. "No… no, no, no, no, no, no…" He shook his head, circled the non-existent head and dashed forward. As he hurried off to the shore, Rei appeared in front of him, beside him, up in a building, down the street, in the corner, and all over ruby orbs shone and glared at him. "Stop!" Shinji screamed as loud as he could in the maze of broken-down buildings, and continued to run._

_When next a shrivel of sanity returned, the boy's cobalt orbs turned to stare at the colorful sign outside the only store opened in the shore's vicinity. The small, one-story building had clearly received structural damage during the explosion; the wall on the left side was cracked and the ceiling seemed caved in, the door appeared to have been recently installed, since it was the one part of the establishment which had a relatively new appearance. _

_Shinji's empty eyes turned up to the sign. _

_LIQUIOR STORE. _

_He stared at the fluorescent words in a strange trance; his body was aching, both his hands felt frozen in the form of fists, he felt his own pulse through what he assumed to be a gash just above his forehead. Every now and then a drop of blood would fall down his jaw or chin, yet most of it had already dried up and itched against Shinji's skin. He blinked, arms shaking, throat dry, and a flash of Misato fucking Kaji crashed against his brain, forcing Shinji to hiss and shut his eyes. The scene unfolded even worse with closed lids, so the boy grumbled in pain and held onto his injured head, eyes locked in the small sign if only to divert any and all other images away. _

_He saw the old, bearded man from before enter the establishment with an air of surrendered gloom; Shinji's body moved again on its own as it sprinted towards the elder gentleman. "A-Ano! Um… excuse me, s-sir… sir?" The man halted just as he was about to open the door, turning tired, knowledgeable grey eyes to him, which opened just a bit wider upon noticing how caked in blood Shinji's face was. "Ah… sir… I-I don't mean to b-bother you, but…" He hurriedly took out the many Zen bills Misato had jammed into his pants that morning after breakfast, and pushed them in the man's calloused palm. "C-Could you… could you get me something…? P-Please?" _

_The man eyed him with faint interest, seemingly unbothered by both Shinji's grime appearance and the request itself. If anything, the boy felt a strange sense of… empathy coming from the wizened man dressed in tatters. "What's your poison, kid?" The fellow intoned with an old grate clearly manifesting from lack of use. "Beer, Rum, Vodka, Whiskey, Sake… what'd you want?" _

_Shinji looked down at his feet, surprised to see a drop of crimson hall down to his dirty shoe, and fidgeted uncomfortable. "I… I don't know." _

"_Oh," recognition danced in the man's voice. "I see." He patted Shinji's shoulder, forcing the boy's body to turn rigid. "I'll get you somethin', just don't overdo it. Stay put, kid." _

_It look less time than what he had expected; in about a minute the elderly man had departed the small store, now with a small smile dancing on his dried lips as he carried a large back in one hand and a bottle in the other. Shinji chose to sit on a particularly large piece of debris located next to the store, and once he received his package, bowed deeply to the gentleman who of all things, offered back a considerable sum of the bills the boy had just given him. "Uhm… I'm sorry that… I had to ask you… you can keep it if yo-"_

"_You don't need to do that," Without letting Shinji respond, the man pressed the mass of sweated bills on Shinji's chest and lifted the bottle. "I already took my payment off of ya, so don't sweat it. Here," Old, crooked molars took a hold of the lid and opened it with a resounding pop. "To your first time drinking."_

_Shinji hesitantly took a hold of the bottle, sniffed it and scrunched up his face when the strong odor basically burned through his nostrils. "Ugh… w-what is it?" _

"_Rum," the elder man said amiably, chuckling. "Yeah, it's a strong one, this little bugger. Come on, now, kid. Just close your eyes, take three or four gulps and chug it down like it was medicine. Trust me." _

"_O…Okay…" Shinji did as instructed, closing his eyes and feeling his eyes water as the heavy beverage scorched him from the mouth all the way down to the stomach. He tried his absolute best to not spit any of it, and swallowed with great difficulty. "Uhhg…" he panted, noticing the immediate effect the strong liquor had on his limbs; the permanent stress that kept his muscles tense like the string of a cello began to dissipate, if only a tiny bit, and as he tried to regain his bearings, Shinji saw no other sign of Unit 02. "T-Thank you," suddenly very tired, he offered the bottle back. "It was… refreshing."_

"_Heh, hell yeah it is," the homeless man agreed and took a large swig which left the bottle almost half empty. "Bad day, huh," He stated matter-of-factly; Shinji felt the man's grey orbs go up and down his bloodied attire, swollen lip and dirty, matted hair, and nodded. "Here," producing a small hankershief, the man moistened the tip with the bottle and handed it over to the boy. "Press that against your lip. It's gonna sting." He obeyed, hissing loudly when the alcohol made contact with the cut on his mouth. "Yeah, kid, I had a bad once. Sometimes it's all you need, ain't it? Just one… bad… day." _

"_And what happens," the boy whispered to himself, and hissed again as he pressed the moist cloth on the cut above his forehead. "When your entire life is just one… big… stupid… bad day?"_

"_Well," the homeless man stood, taking another large swig of the bottle. A gloved hand picked one of the yellow cans from Shinji's bag, opened it and offered it to the teen. "Then you drink, kid. You drink, and you try to get by." The boy dumbly accepted the can, clearly so shaken up by what had just occurred, and once again offered the mass of crushed bills. "Nah, kid. I don't need it." He motioned towards the emptiness of the rubble behind him. "Some of us are here because we want to, because it's better for everyone else; this is where we belong, us animals. Maybe you don't get it now, but when you grow up, you'll see. Thanks for the drink, Shinji. Get those cuts looked after, will you?" _

"_T-Thank you, sir!" Shinji stared dumbly at the man's retreating back, words crashing into each other as he tried to articulate a sentence. "S-Sir! I… ah… may I ask what's your name?"_

_The homeless man turned, offering Shinji a melancholic smile which somehow stung him right in the chest, forcing some unknown ache out his heart. A gloved, battered hand moved a piece of ragged cloth away from the man's chest, and the boy's eyes widened. _

_**JSDF**_

_Nodding, he let the old cloth cover back the crest, and saluted Shinji. "Lt. Colonel Watanabe Harou, at your service, Ikari-san," then the former soldier's shoulders slackened, his expression turned to one of guilt and sadness while grey eyes turned glassy. "I'm sorry… I'm so sorry about all of it. Kampai, Shinji." _

_He raised the cold beverage at the man's retreating back, not fully understanding what had just transpired, then took a small, demure sip from the can, grimacing at the taste. Regardless, the swig of rum had warmed his body, made the agony feel just a tad far away, it had numbed out the fear, the memories and the visions to a degree, so Shinji took another sip, and another, and another. Soon enough the first can fell off his fingers, followed by the second, the third and the fourth. He never remembered washing the blood off his face, taking into consideration that every time the cold metallic container pressed against his damaged lip a sting of pain sparkled. He never thought about washing off his hands, removing the pieces of debris from the skin of his knuckles, or even seeing if the cut on his head had stopped bleeding. _

_No, all Shinji remembered was how with each beer he chugged, his entire body sunk even further, driving away the ever-present self-hatred and guilt, even for a small lapse in time. His head lolled from side to side after the first pack had been emptied; he burped, felt like his stomach was terribly full and yet could not vomit anything out, and swung left and right as the cover of night loomed over the rubble. At some point he looked over at his own hands, pressed the cold cans on the bruised knuckles and watched, enthralled, as the blood intermingled with water and dripped down into the ground. _

_And so he drank, and he forgot, for the very first time._

_It was a Sunday, just four days after his sixteenth birthday. _

Shinji groaned, painfully aware that his leg was burning and the wound on his stomach felt fresh as the day he'd gotten it, and rolled over to his back only to hiss when the injury near his lung reminded him there was scarcely any position he could rest in. Tired cobalt orbs drew over to the clock on his wall, which read a petulant 5.03am in the full gloom of an early morning. Only the very early birds like the crows and turtle doves sang at the moment, eclipsed at times by the random cicada that decided to make itself known, or the random car that sped off to work in the wee hours of the day.

Exhaling slow and carefully, Shinji felt around his forehead and discovered no evident signs of strong sweat in his hair or pillow. "Weird…" he said to himself, and scratched his left arm. "I'm shaking like a leaf at this point in the morning." He sat up with evident difficulty, gulped down the glass resting on his nightstand, and opened the small drawer where the pills were kept. "Ah, smart move, Sohryu." He grunted as scarred fingers lifted the small note.

I TOOK THE LIBERTY OF REORGANIZING YOUR LITTLE TRIPPY COLLECTION. WANT A FIX? COME TO THE KITCHEN. XOXO ASUKA

The paper wrinkled under his fist when he squashed it and huffed. All in all, his head was not spinning, there was barely any nausea in his stomach, he had not dehydrated through the night nor had he suffered the fevers and shakes of withdrawal. "Hm, maybe I ought to get myself a healthy portion of those edibles," he mused, and tried to stand. His leg gave out twice, but on the third try Shinji grit his teeth, drawing breath sharply while his right hand clutched the edge of the bed. Forcing uncooperative limbs to move forward, the young man was able to lower himself into the wheelchair without any sudden bleeding bursting out his wounds, which were in fact killing him with pain.

"I swear to God, if I don't get myself something soon," his hands shook tremulously while pushing the wheelchair forward. "I'm gonna snap like a twig…" Wishing for nothing more than a quiet, peaceful morning with plenty of pills to take the edge off, Shinji wheeled himself into the living room and groaned loud enough to be heard. _There goes my quiet morning, straight down the fucking drain it goes. _

Asuka was up as well, it would seem, and was in the seemingly thorough process if inspecting every book he had. "Oh," he heard her mutter. "Hmm, General Biology, the Anatomy of Man… huh? What? Madness and Civilization, Discipline and Punish," Asuka's eyebrow shot up at the next book. "The History of Sexuality? Well, well, let's see what else is there."

He wanted to cough, grunt, speak or in some other form distract the girl from disorganizing his carefully placed collection, but the annoying little brat bit down on one of his shackles and Shinji's mouth remained closed. On the rare occasion that his anger turned absolute and blinding, he tended to forget a particular fact which was branded in his soul just like Third Impact was branded in his mind. _She __**is**__ beautiful, _he pondered, staring at the way the golden-auburn locks danced on her back when she moved. Now a grown woman, she was far more astonishing than she'd been as a teenager. _And I am… I do feel… _His fists closed. _I still can't let it go, can I? That's just sad, Shinji… A pathetic schoolboy crush you never acted on…_

Asuka took out an old, worn-out volume and stared at it with awe. "Trouble in Paradise," she read, slightly taken aback. "From the End of History to the End of capitalism," she whistled in quiet amazement and set the volume back. "Now, what else is… oh!" Another book danced on the female's hands. "The Interpretation of Dreams and the Dynamic of Transference, wow."

_She still looks as gorgeous as the first day I set eyes on her, _realized the injured former pilot with a strange sorrow corroding his insides. Envy and hatred pulsed into existence all of the sudden, and Shinji frowned, the dim light which for only a few moments had illuminated his eyes extinguished. _That's right, she's not yours. Never was, never will be; she moved on, remember? Of course you remember. Of course you remember Möritz, don't you? Or that Latin hunk, what was his name again, Luis? No, no, Fabio. Yeah, that guy. Imagine what a wonderful time they all had, with that beautiful woman right there. _

She had tucked him in, kissed his forehead, ruffled his hair and told him she would be just outside, should he require anything, and being the foolish little worm he was, he had fallen right into her game. _She's already got a life, you idiot, _he reminded himself, continuously observing the curvature of the young woman's body as she stretched to retrieve this book or the other. _You're just… the guinea pig. Might as well enjoy it while it lasts. That's what junkies do anyway, isn't it? _

He recalled her words from the night before, how she had admitted to being less than kind to him for their entire time together, how she was prepared to face the consequences, should he wish to take her life in retribution. What infuriated him above all things was, however, how he actually wanted to believe in her statements, so Shinji focused on the envy instead, on the sense of faint, misguided and ridiculous betrayal, once again drowning his own sentiments under the anger.

"Aber hallo… Engels, Freud, Jung, Foucault, even some volumes on cognitive systems theory," Asuka smiled to herself and took a wider look at Shinji's large bookshelf; it was by far the biggest piece of furniture in the house. His collected works went from biology, anatomy and chemistry to anthropology, philosophy and psychology, with classics like Lovecraft, Dostoyevsky, Gogol, Twain, and Faulkner strewn about. A hundred books lay before her at the very least, with the vast majority of them showing signs of use and not few of them in either English or German; scratched or marked lines, small syntax of the page's content scribbled in a corner, and the familiar, indiscriminate use of a marker in texts he considered important. "I guess he didn't stay a _full_ idiot, after all."

"No," he called back, and smirked when Asuka screeched and jumped away in surprise. "The idiot got himself a bit of an education. I did graduate college, you know." He wheeled away from her, blatantly ignoring how the redhead fumed behind him, and set about making himself a decent cup of coffee. "It's a little known fact that I have a degree in modern philosophy."

"Right," Asuka said at last, hot on his tail. "And you just had to choose the one degree that was more moronic than the cello, nicht? I mean, come on! You could've studied biology or music and become a professional cellist, but then you decided books about whether or not God is a human construct gave you a higher calling." Placing her hands on her hips, Asuka couldn't help but smile. "Such a boring little boy."

"It's not everyone's dream job to have their hands deep in somebody's entrails," Shinji responded while preparing all the necessary elements for his daily cup. "I like to read, and that career was basically reading all day and all night long, so I went along with it."

"You actually have to think and process what you're reading, Baka," Asuka remarked, pleased to see Shinji move around with just the faintest of tremors around his fingers, and less indications that he was in constant pain than the day before. "The very idea of philosophy is to analyze and understand the correlations between things which seem to have no correlation at all. It's quite a bit like physics, really," she sat on the table, smirk ever present. "You just have word walls and rambles instead of equations, and more rambles instead of results. But I guess it suits you well enough. Say, don't you have a coffee maker like everyone else, Baka? I was looking all over for it. For Six Freaking Days."

Shinji offered a deadpan glance at her question, producing a decently sized metal pan. "Could you do me a favor?" He asked instead, voice cold and guttural. "Could you please drop two and half cups of water in here? The sink is… just a little too far away. Thank you." She shrugged and did as requested, handed over the pan and lay her head on the table, observing how Shinji placed the pan on the kitchen and produced a small, wooden object which was finely decorated and painted with all sorts of purples, yellows, blues and whites. Afterwards, Shinji opened the lower left cabinet and took out… a sock. At least it looked like a sock to her, anyways, cylindrical in nature, stained and on the way of changing color from white to deep brown. "Eh?" She exclaimed, and pointed to the filter. "What's that supposed to be?"

"Breakfast," Shinji replied even more harshly than before. He was getting itchy, his right leg had begun its typical dance of up and down, and sweat was effectively starting to run down his back despite the early hour and comfortable temperature. "I got this from the Costa Rican government some years ago," he clarified, pouring about five spoonfuls of a very delicious smelling coffee into the sock. "They realized I was a coffee fan and gave me this, apart from inviting me to some party where they properly demonstrated how to make the perfect cup of coffee."

Just before the water was boiling the young former pilot swiftly took it from the stove and poured it on the sock. Instantly, Asuka's nostrils flared and opened, inhaling the strong, delicious aroma and groaning in undisclosed pleasure. "Hmmm, that smells incredible," she noted. Shinji's overall cold attitude was a clear indicator he was getting close to the edge; the girl took the handful of pills she had chosen and changed it from one pocket to the next. "So, how'd you sleep?"

Shinji was quiet for a few moments; he waited for the pot to fill and poured the coffee back in the same filter, filling the first cup and handing it over to her. "I actually slept very well, thank you," he said, and although his words were courteous and respectful, the man's' voice was cold and devoid of emotion. "Your uncle Joey certainly knows what he's doing. Yourself?"

"I know, right? Yeah, I slept well enough, I guess," She acknowledged and took a sip. Asuka's eyes widened, she took a second try and stared at the black substance in awe. "That…" she started. "Has to be the best coffee I've ever had in my life. I didn't even pour any milk or sugar in it, and it's so good." She gulped down a large portion, uncaring that the drink was relatively hot. "Damn, that's a good sock you got there, Third."

"It's a cotton filter," he clarified, sipping his own large cup. "Again, thank you for… helping me yesterday. I don't really remember having had any nightmares last night, shit," he looked over at the ceiling and back to his cup. "It's been a while since I last said that."

FLICK

"What is your _problem_?! (Cough) Huh?!"

"Language, Baka," the girl stated for her part, stood and took out a piece of toast she had been preparing. "Be a little bit more tactful when you're with a lady, would you? That may work wonders, hell you might even get a girlfriend!"

"Pff," Shinji snorted in derision and took a drink of coffee. "Yeah, like a couple of words here and there are the thing that's stopping me from being the lady's man I'm destined to be. Ha, here I thought it was the fact that my daily life is a clusterfuck of painkillers, booze and cigarettes, or the fact that I don't really _sleep_. Speaking of which," he extended his hand in Asuka's direction, fingers shaking and eyes narrowed to steely slits. "I'm in the kitchen, now. If you'd be so kind."

The girl's smile faltered some, turning into a thoughtful frown. She sighed. "Alright, Mr. Third," the small bundle of pills bounced on the table in Shinji's direction. "There you go, Guten Apetit."

A scarred hand lifted the small bag and maneuvered with heavy fingers to unwind it. Shinji's stoic gaze fell in her, and Asuka watched as he lifted an eyebrow in slight astonishment. "Now, this is certainly unexpected. Just how much of an enabler are you, Frau Doctor?"

"I changed your dear Xanax for some Oxycotin, it'll do wonders for the pain of the wounds," Asuka said instead of answering his petulance; the memory of her dream washed over, making the girl feel strangely observed and slightly vulnerable under Shinji's scalding glare, which she decided to return full force. _Two can play this angry game, Baka. And I've been playing it for far longer than you have. _"The rest is about half of your daily morning portion, and half a gummy bear. That should keep you from collapsing into a fit of vomit and piss for the next few hours."

The young man swallowed the entirety of the small bag with the last remnants of his coffee. So she was glaring at him, now? _Painfully familiar, _he pondered, content that the tremors would cease in a few minutes and his body would stop rejecting its own skin. _As if you could hope to stop me if I really wanted to get a proper fix. I'll play along, Sohryu, for now. _His eyes narrowed in her direction and glanced over to the answering machine by the table. "Yes, what a treat that would be," he said, and picked up a stray piece of toast while he wheeled over to the living room. "I'm sure you'd love to see how wonderfully I behave once the fevers settle in and I start bashing my head against a wall."

Shinji pushed the blinking button on the small device in hopes to drown out whatever response Asuka managed to direct his way. "_Hey there, hero_!" The easily recognizable bellow of his boss reverberated through the house. "_I heard they dispatched you, so the girls and I were hoping to come by and say hello tomorrow afternoon! Hey, I got that red wine you love so much! So, we'll swing by, hopefully you'll be awake, and we'll have a great time! Hey, Shinji, you're a hero, my boy! People have been coming over for days just to ask how you're doing! Even that girl from your gym swung by, that Katia girl-_"

"_Krista, boss," _a female voice interrupted, making Shinji snort in amusement.

"_Yes! The one with the cargo pants! Boy, was she angry! She kept yelling, asking where the hell you lived! Well, we didn't budge! We know, we know you don't like people sniffing around your house, but we'll definitely be there! Get me some of that tuna, will you? And by the way, Ko-"_

He pressed delete without even remembering Asuka was behind him; while the restaurant owner was by all accounts a generous, outspoken man who treated people with respect, he was a talker and tended to monologue for as long as the workers allowed him to in the mornings. Still, the man's overall jolly nature and positive attitude managed o draw a small smirk on his face. The next message blinked into existence, so Shinji pressed play.

"_Yo, Ruthless, yo yo yo yo yo yo yooooo!" _This time, Shinji actually chuckled, still completely ignoring Asuka's shocked expression and the fact that she was there, in the first place. The loud, boisterous voice replaced and eclipsed that of his boss in seconds. _"Hey bro, just dropping this message to say daaaamn, son! You nuked them mo'fockers, didn't you?! That left hand, I'm telling you, dawg, that's some N2 mine shit! Bam! Go to sleep, bitch! Boy, I saw the papers the other day and I was like shiet, that __**gotta**__ my little Ruthless right there, fucking three mo'fockers up, getting fucking stabbed __**four**__ fucking times and winning the mo'focking fight! Shiiiiieeeet! That is some gangster shit, dog, you feel me?! Hey man, Krista been whooping everybody ass in here, saying where the fuck you at! Holla at your boy! Or else that bitch go'n kill me, dog! Holla!" _

The message ended and Shinji actually let out an honest laugh. There were very few things in his current life which provided any form of solace that did not involve consuming substances. When he went out on his 4am runs through the city, and the jog through the woods when the sun came out was one. Visiting the old gym where the owner and manager, a monstrous, heavily muscled man from the States ruled with an iron fist, was about the second only thing which brought about some sense of belonging, of humanity into his broken down sanity.

"So," he heard the girl mutter from behind him. "Who's _**Krista**_, Shinji?"

She had absolutely not intended to spit out the name like it was a sour taste on her tongue, but the flares of an irrational envy which manifested in her chest erased the girl's advanced functions and left her with the basic software. She seethed upon watching the boy shrug indifferently at her question, and regard her with a cold, disinterested frown. "She's one of my training partners. Comes to the restaurant sometimes, when she wants to treat her girlfriend or whatever."

"Your training partner, is she," she repeated, teeth grinding, but then her brain finished processing Shinji's statement. "Wait, her girlfriend?"

"Yes, her girlfriend," pushing the delete button with enough momentum to force a tiny crack from the device, Shinji breathed in deeply and let the pills do their magic. Yes, the tremors were almost gone, the voices and the giggling ad receded to an almost unnoticeable hum in the background, and his skin didn't feel like it needed to be rinsed off with a fork anymore. "She's gay. A lesbian, ach, whatever the stupid socially accepted word is nowadays. She used to be bi, like a year ago, but then she met this chick and got serious with her, and well, they've been going strong for about ten months."

Aware that she had just displayed a tiny fraction of childish behavior with no reason whatsoever behind it, Asuka recomposed and tried to summon anger from anywhere. The idea of this Krista and Shinji training together worked wonders for said objective. "So, is she your _only _training partner, or something?"

"Not really," The boy in the wheelchair had already taken a few selected elements off the cabinets and was pushing himself to the fridge as he spoke. "We spar together sometimes; we go out for drinks, too, on some rare occasion. She's tall and heavy for a girl, at least here in Tokyo, and well," he produced a large piece of tuna and maneuvered with his right hand to place it on the counter. "I'm not super bulky, so we spar and wrestle since we're about the same height. I'm heavier, sure, but she's faster, so it's a good exchange."

_Wrestle? They wrestle? How do you mean, wrestle? Like, on the mat, with your hands… all over her body, holding her down?! _The subconscious reaction was about to jump out of her, but the young doctor chose to dig her nails as far as they went in her palms. "Oh, that's good to hear," her voice came out clipped, every word bitten through gritted teeth. The fact that the girl's sexual inclination had nothing to do with Shinji was somehow a fact her very brilliant brain was happy to ignore. "I guess you do have some lady friends hanging around, don't you?"

Then, she heard Shinji dig the tip of the knife so deeply into the wooden cutting board that the tuna almost flew out. He was hunched down, forearm bulging with veins and strained muscles, shaking slightly. _What the hell? What? What did I say that he suddenly got so angry, huh?! _

"No," he growled dangerously low back to her, not even bothering to look back. "No, I do not."

He picked the knife's pommel and with his elbow supporting the cutting board, extracted the tip and was about to start trying to cut the fish from the strange, difficult position when the redhead blinked, and understood what he was doing. "What the hell, Baka?! She barked, and felt relief flood her veins when the familiar annoyance at Shinji's overall antics returned. "That, what you just did right there was a sudden movement! Arg! What are you doing?!"

She stalked over to where he sat, and the only response her anger got was a bored, detached glare. "Did you not hear my boss say he was going to swing by? Since I can't run, or even so much as _walk_ at this point, I'll go about preparing something for my guests and leaving it ready early on so I don't have to push myself… (cough, cough)… cooking quickly. Do you have a problem with that?!"

"Yes!" Asuka exploded, glowering at him and taking both the cutting board and knife from his loose grip. "Yes, I do! What part of taking care of you was too hard to get, huh? I can cook, you idiot! I'll cook for your stupid guests, you'll see!"

She set the cutting board on the table and was about to start slicing the large tuna piece into lovely filets when the heavy grip of Shinji's hand stopped her cold. "This is my kitchen," he said lowly, forcing the girl to gulp and realize just how strong the boy's hold was becoming. "Please respect me, if not in life, then at least in my kitchen." He slowly unwound the hold, to Asuka's continued shock, and gently took the knife from her hand. She felt bolts of electricity run through her skin when Shinji's calloused hand took away the cooking tool. "These are my guests, my co-workers, my boss. They expect certain things, in a certain way. I will cook for them."

He sounded… close to solemn, so serious that the young woman felt out of place, and was forced to once more realize Shinji had very little left to do aside from cooking, or trying to at least. The activity would be a welcomed distraction for anybody in Shinji's position, more so someone who cooked to deal with anxiety and many other things. Asuka nodded, moving out the way. "I… just thought you'd be more comfortable on the table since… well, you're still on that chair for another day or so."

Shinji was already engrossed in ever so delicately slicing the fish, eyes burning through what she knew to be the Senaka part of the tuna, one of the best cuts which she had picked to cook on that day, ironically enough. She took two steps back and blinked, noticing one of her many desires throughout the years had been so very easily given to her; she was watching Shinji cook. "Hm, need the other one," The young man muttered, wheeled himself to the counter, took out a boning knife and started over. "Yeah, this'll do. There." Soon enough a perfectly cut section was ready. "Just a little smaller for Kodame," Shinji blinked, and turned to look at her. "How much do you like tuna?"

"Huh?" The redhead blinked and returned to the present There was an expectant look on Shinji's face. "What?"

"How much do you like tuna, Asuka?" he reiterated, and pointed towards the large piece he was currently working on.

"O-Oh!" She blinked again, putting both hands on her hips. "W-Well it _is_ one of my favorite blue fishes, to be perfectly honest."

"Big portion for you, then," he mumbled, and just like that his attention refocused on making every move of the knife as precise as humanly possible. Having to painstakingly work with precision herself, the redhead could not help but admire the calm way in which the boy's hands stilled and worked. He blinked from time to time, breathing shallowly and hissing every now and then; he was using his left hand, she noticed, in order to reduce the pain to a minimum Shinji had propped his forearm on the table, eliciting the least amount of strength possible. Still, the sharp intakes of breath were a clear indicator that an invisible blade stabbed him through the back again.

"I can help, you know," She found herself saying, unsure of how to engage him. He seemed at ease when cooking, focused on the task, and apparently even half the portion of everything he took in the mornings had worked to still his cravings for the time of being. "Unless you want to do everything yourself, of course. I can at least get the ingredients while you work your mojo on that tuna."

Pausing for a second to consider it, Shinji turned to look at her and shrugged with his right side. "Sounds good to me. I'll need some onions cut, some carrots, a bit of salt, rosemary, some seaweeds I have on the fridge, some capers for the sauce, along with a few berries and some butter. Oh, and some potatoes, a nice mashed potatoes would go nicely with the fish. Do you know how to make rice?"

"Is that a serious question?" While truly astonished that Asuka already knew where his every ingredient was stored and had placed his requests on the table, Shinji stilled stared boringly at her.

"What I meant to say was, do you know how to make Japanese rice?" He carried on to the task of finishing preparing the meat; it was a true gift from the heavens, this piece of tuna, and the fact Asuka had already placed in the lower side of the fridge the night before allowed him to work on it before its temperature or consistence became unpleasant.

"Of course I do, Baka," shaking her head in derision, Asuka went about the task. "Although, do we have to get on this so early, Shinji? It's not even seven o'clock yet, jeez."

"The rice can wait," he conceded. "I would like to finish cutting the vegetables, though. And I'd like to peel the potatoes."

"Well, okay then," she set about placing every object Shinji would need and a varied amount of knives, plates and pots in his direct vicinity, and once finished, rose to stretch. "This all seems like something you can do without bleeding to death," her eyes darted towards the bathroom. "I think I'll hit the shower while you have your fun."

"My house is apparently, _and_ legally your house for the next month at the very least, so be my guest," Shinji ground out, distracted. "I'm sure you've figured out how the hot water works. Hmm, I'll take a shower after you."

"Whatever you say, Herr Baka!" The girl's soft footsteps drifted over to her bedroom, and soon she disappeared behind the door. Soon enough there was ruffling here and there, the sound of a large zipper being opened and more shuffling; the former Third Child turned his eyes back to the vegetables.

In his mind's eye the scene unveiled again, and the vultures descended on Unit 02 with ravenous hunger.

Shinji took a deep breath, set down the knife and massaged his forehead. It fell wrong and ill-advised to openly insult Asuka, but the mere act of trying to be civil with her was proving harder than he thought. The conversation of the former night came back to memory, deepening Shinji's scowl. _You betrayed me, huh, _he thought gravely, slicing through the onions with alarming speed and precision. _What about when I sat there in my Entry Plug while you got your mind raped, huh? Is that not betrayal? _He took the carrot and cut it in half with one fluid, violent motion. _Big hero in the red cape, give me a break. Isn't the guy supposed to rescue the damsel in distress? Isn't a man supposed to protect that which he holds dear? _His vision blurred a bit, surely from the onions he continued to chop into tiny squares. _Even after Third Impact I couldn't even look at you square in the face, when the fuck did __**you**__ ever betray __**me**__?!_

The image of that blasted magazine ran through him, the one with the blonde, perfect specimen Kodoma and the others seemed to have melted for. The one before that, the Latino piece of shit who had cheated on her, and the one before that, the other German cunt ran through his mind's eye. Shinji angrily cut the second carrot, wishing for little else than to inflict said damage on a limb and not the harmless tuber. _What is there to betray? What right do I have to feel envious? We weren't anything, not even friends. We lived together and were total strangers, and now… now this stranger comes back and forces me to remember all that… hell…_

Unit 00 grotesquely grew like a putrid fruit until it exploded, and just like that the Rei he had known burned in her Entry Plug, and a new clone was prepared. Shinji took a heavy intake of breath and placed the chopped onions on the pan, pausing for a second. _This is your kitchen. Seven years have passed, you're not- _When he opened his eyes, however, he was in the Entry Plug, watching as Unit 01 ascended, and as he foolishly looked over to the skies, the blood of Asuka's EVA fell hot and rancid on him, and pieces of her were gnawed at by white snouts and white teeth. Shinji breathed in once more, upsetting the cut on his back, and opened his eyes to see his left hand clutching the knife with fervor and the wound on his stomach complaining loudly as the pills had a not so positive effect with the healing ulcer.

The physical strain thankfully brought him back, so the young man set about peeling the potatoes and placing them on the water-filled pan to his right. The sound of the door opening distracted him just as Asuka marched over to the bathroom. "See ya soon, Baka! No peeking!"

Turning to look at her, Shinji motioned over to his room with the knife. "I'm not the one who's been sleeping in somebody else's bed having a perfectly new one to use, so whatever. No peeking, as you say." He noticed the way Asuka's back straightened and arched, and almost laughed at the way her shoulders stiffened. "Forget it; you didn't know that was supposed to be your room, anyway. I don't care."

She nodded stiffly, he noticed, and fled inside the bathroom with haste. Shinji produced a small pill from his pant pocket, glaring at the door, and without her watching chugged down another Valium and the remaining half of the so called super gummy bear. If alcohol was out of the question, then a few pills would have to keep him sane during the afternoon; he was in no particular inclination to neither making a fool of himself in front of his co-workers nor to have to survive the evening sober. The waitresses loved the Great Sohryu Asuka Langley, after all, the girls were sure to flip like schoolgirls the moment they laid eyes on the former Second Child.

_What's it to her if Krista and I fucked or not? _A part of his mind asked. _All she ever gave me was… I don't even think you call that a kiss, she almost gave me a trip to unconsciousness. And I know she was sending me twisted signals back then, I know I never picked on that, or the bathing suit, or the Wall of Jericho, but hell, _the face of that obnoxious blonde popping in his memory almost cost Shinji a finger. He glared down at the readied potatoes, threw them into the pan and moved on to the next item. The anger was forcing his heartbeat to double, the irrational possessiveness he despised crawled back into his awareness, forcing the boy to grind his teeth and clench his hands into fists.

"_Do you want to kiss? You know, mashing lips together. Ugh! I should've never kissed to pass the time! Why didn't you hold me?! Why are you in here?! You won't do anything! You won't even hold me! Why can't you do __**anything**__?!" _

Glaring at the door, he felt his hand grab the knife and violently stab it on the cutting board. _I don't know, maybe the fact that you never did anything short of insulting me had me a __**little**__ bit confused about what you wanted! No? No chance of that? Of course not, right, because it's always Shinji, it's always me. I'm the good-for-nothing who never acted on anything. I was the scared little brat who didn't dare to reach out because I was so fucking scared. I was the one-_ Shinji removed the blade from the wood, feeling his midsection cry out in outrage. "What's the point, anymore?" He whispered to the living room. "You reap what you sow, and I was too much of a little bitch to sow anything, so I reap nothing. I get nothing."

He stared at the blade, and wondered how even after shredding his own oblique while taking out the serrated knife, he had managed to do it well enough to survive. The smug look on that blonde bastard's face as his arm hung loosely from Asuka's shoulder flashed again, and Shinji stabbed the knife back into the board. He wondered how long it would take him to turn that perfectly white skin purple under a rear naked choke.

Then the absurdity of his owns urges crashed, and he kept cutting, kept working, as habit dictated. "That's right, I get nothing." He sliced the cut potato in half, and sighed. "I _am_ nothing."

* * *

"_I don't care." _

Keeping her back pressed against the door, Asuka tried not to scream in pure, unbidden rage and despair. Her night had been more than a little uncomfortable with her own damn conscience ensuring she did not forget the Great Second Child was spoiled goods now, used, broken in, and that Shinji was most certainly aware of it. The very reason behind the stupid guilt and sense of betrayal was even more ridiculous in her mind. Asuka breathed in deeply, clutched the towel and began to undress.

"_I don't care." _

_Well then __**good**__, you shouldn't, _she reprimanded mentally, feeling a queer agony stifle through her chest. _It's not like it's a big deal, I just slept in your bed, and your scent helped me sleep better than ever and I thought that maybe mine would help you too but I guess that's just stupid isn't it. _Standing naked before the tub, Asuka let it fill slowly and sat on the edge, glaring at the water. _It's not like this is anything but a stupid little schoolgirl crush I developed on literally the only other male in my vicinity, and it shouldn't bother me at all. I'm here to save my fellow pilot, my… _she paused, glare turning uncertain for a fraction of a second. _My friend… I… Does he even need me as a friend?_

The name Krista was officially and very evidently on her shit list now, right next to Ikari Gendou, her mother, Kaji and the EVA Series. _Wrestle together, yeah right. I bet she's kissed him, if she's into the bi stuff and whatnot, I bet she just took what she wanted without even asking. _Her fist clenched and the glare returned full force. _I bet she gives him drugs, and booze, I'm sure of it, she encourages it, the addiction in him. _There was absolutely no data to support the thoughts going through her mind and Asuka didn't care one bit, she was so infuriated that the red dog was trembling in its little red house, too scared to bark out. Even Kyoko knew better than to approach her. _You go have drinks together, do you?! _Instead of testing the water's temperature she sunk her fist into it. _I bet you she gets you into fights, doesn't she? That little lesbian bitch, Krista?! Huh?! __**Krista**__?! Why does **she **get to kiss you, huh? Why does __**she**__ get you to hold her?! Why?!_

She was panting, fists raised and feet half in the tub, and water had sprinkled just about every surface of the small bathroom. Her fists unclenched, rationality returned, and Asuka ever so slowly sat back down on the tub and hugged her knees. "She was here," muttered the young doctor. The water was a tad too cold, but she found herself uncaring. "She's been here. You weren't. You were with them, or by yourself, but you weren't _here_. And now look at what's happened…" She chuckled, and allowed a pair of tears to escape. "You forsake this Baka for a little bit and he turns into a wheeling tornado of self-destruction… starts hanging out with the wrong crowds, messing around with unworthy bitches…"

_Not that you haven't been with your share of unworthy men, Asuka. Let's not lie to ourselves again, remember that deal? _A newfound glare blossomed in her features; she had sworn not do many things ever again. "One thing is true, though," she mumbled, reaching for the soap. "I think it's a little bit more than a schoolgirl crush." _I want to hug him, and I want him to hug me. I want… _The way he had just spoken with her, so honest and respectful, demonstrating humbleness she was never to possess had just increased her wish to stay. The drugs and his addiction for them flashed momentarily in her mind, but she discarded the thought. He was handsome, now. Strong willed, intelligent, refined, and something told her he could behave like a true gentleman if he ever so wished to. At the cost of most of his sanity, the hardships of Shinji's life had awoken a strength in him, one she found extraordinaire, worth the study risk, and attractive. She could grow further than ever before, and he could at last be rid of the penance which anchored him, they could compliment one another.

"_I don't care." _

"_What happened to your hand?" _

"_Where are you sleeping?"_

Once she was done washing, Asuka rose with a newfound sense of freshness, and reinvigorated to pursue her desire. It was a simple one, in retrospect to all the things she had wished for as a child, and never obtained. All she wanted was to have her Shinji back, and to have him stand next her healthy and strong. She had prepared for years to pursue her task, and no pretentious little wrestler/slut was to stand in her way. Especially one named Krista of all things.

_What a stupid fucking name, _she snarled, trying to imagine just how the harlot would look like in real life, and remembering with a snide grin that Misato could provide a vast library of images regarding Shinji's acquaintances in a heartbeat. _Krista. You better stay ten steps the fuck away from __**my**__ Shinji before I snap you in half, you and any other bitch with delusions of grandeur. You don't know what he's been through; you don't know the first thing about it._

She dressed and prepared, making sure to accentuate her God-given attributes and taking special care to make her locks as lustrous and supple to the touch as humanly possible. Once, four years ago she had cut her hair down to almost nothing, and it did not sit well with her at all. Shinji liked her hair, and he liked it long and shiny. The boy had never spoken the words himself, but it was a truth she felt was written in her heart; just like how she knew, just knew how horrible he had felt during the last few years. They were in many mirror images of each other, only having taken a different approach in their form of living and the way they pushed people away. Precisely due to this similarity she felt herself drawn to him, and despite not having been there, could emphasize with him better than any other person on the planet.

"All the Baka's done is doing a sad take on my former approach," she told herself. "I've fought against myself for seven years. This is familiar battle ground."

"_I don't care." _

_Yes, yes you do, Baka. I'll show you just how much. _The sound of the noose constricting caught the girl's attention just before she exited the bathroom. Kyoko made no appearance, knowing that when Asuka was so determined and angry nothing short of the Apocalypse would stop her, but the horrifying apparition did put in her two cents.

"_**Oh, he does care, my darling. So very, very much. That is why the time to speak about them… is drawing near. How fun will that be, nicht? Will you cry in front of him, will you beg? Or will you scream out and demand his understanding and forgiveness? I wonder…"**_

"Yeah, keep wondering." Shinji's visit was to arrive later in the day, and nothing short of the absolute best was expected; she would dash his guests and leave them enamored with her, nothing short of perfection was expected. After all, it was expected that the… lady of the house offered some level of conversation and entertainment. "I've got work to do."

* * *

About three hours after his shower and most recent change of bandages, Shinji concluded a suspicion he'd had since the morning; these were not his pills. The visions certainly stopped or at least became less frequent, the tremors in his hands had disappeared, but the anxiety and the empty feeling in the pit of his stomach had not. Being no stranger to rehabilitation and the medicines they used, he clicked his tongue while watching Asuka prepare the mashed potatoes. _This isn't methadone, _pondered the young former pilot, and gulped down another of Asuka's gummy bears. While harmless in appearance, the little bastards did work wonders on regulating his breathing and reducing the pain of his many injuries. _But it does the trick. Glad I always have my emergency stash, though. _He popped a Xanax into his mouth and dry-swallowed it. The day had transpired smoothly, with neither part willing to disrupt the relative ease in the air. Shinji's left hand padded the wound on his stomach, thanking Lilith for waterproof apposites; having Asuka shower him of all things would have been the greatest shame of his life yet.

"So, do your dear friends and boss like their mashed potatoes creamy, Baka?" She asked from the kitchen, turning to smirk at him. This he enjoyed; despite trying to hate and reject it, it felt good to interact with her. "How about with generous amounts of butter, hmm?"

"A resounding Yes to both," he answered, returning the smirk despite himself. "You know what the French say; there's no such thing as too much butter."

The redhead turned back to the stove, ponytail jumping behind and catching Shinji's attention yet again. Was her hair extraordinarily shiny that day? "Ah, certainement, Môsieur Idiot," the girl innocently let a whole spoonful fall into the mix, added a bit of milk and nutmeg and set about giving the perfect consistency to the puree. "I bet you're loving this, aren't you? Having the Great Sohryu Asuka Langley cook and clean for you, right?"

"Oh, absolutely," he answered, laughing with just a hint of his usual malice. "You know I love to be stabbed in this time of the year, it's just so fantastic to watch the days float by in a moving chair while my insides slowly, and _painfully_ stitch back together. I mean, who _doesn't_ love pissing blood and taking thirty minutes to wash and change?"

"Well, I did tell you I could help, but then you gave me that nasty glare and I thought… screw this guy!" She giggled, doubling the strength with which the puree was being mixed. "I mean, it really must suck to be stuck on that chair, but you don't mean to tell me that something about this whole situation doesn't strike you as… unique and extraordinary? Cathartic, even?"

He chuckled, pushing the wheels to circle around the redhead. "Hmm, don't get me wrong. This is fulfilling all sorts of fantasies on levels you can't even begin to comprehend… (cough)… I just wish the complementary knife wounds were not a byproduct of my… blessed situation." _You can't really argue or fight when you're down three diazepams and one of those bears, _Shinji realized, and took a chance to glance at the red mane caught in the ponytail. _God… so beautiful. It's like fire made hair, fire made __**flesh**__. _

The prick with the suit and the blond hair crossed through his hazed mind, and Shinji imagined Asuka's gorgeous, lustrous locks disarrayed, sweated and clinging to the little shit's chest as she hugged him. He imagined the man holding Asuka by the hair… and then he frowned, and redirected his glare at the door. _That's right, you fucking loser. Remember your place. She's here out of pity, out of personal interest. Don't you dare hope for anything more than the pit. _The way Asuka turned and winked at him did not help matters at all. _Fuck! Stop that! Stop… being beautiful, damn it! _

"And me wearing a bikini would help… hmm… fulfill any others you might have?" She secretly thanked the fact that Shinji was slightly medicated at the moment, and relished in the way his cheeks and face turned crimson. _I think… he still likes me, a little bit. _"Or would it help more if I just wear the apron?"

"Ugh, I…" Shinji cursed himself, wishing for a beer, and wheeled himself a safe distance away. "You're killing me, here."

"I bet I am," she winked again and turned back to her creation, proudly exposing the result to the injured youth. "Now, feast your eyes on perfection! Look at this! Isn't this the creamiest Kartoffelnpuree you've ever seen, Baka?" She offered a spoonful, which he took with some level of apprehension.

After making sure his mouth would not combust by the heat, Shinji tasted, and nodded. "Well, I'll be damned," he said. "It's pretty good. Might need a little bit more nutmeg, though."

"Might need a little bit of nutmeg, though," Asuka mocked him, turning to add the requested spice. "Whatever, Third. Anyway, are you sure you can cook that tuna by yourself? I wouldn't want you to burn down your nice little kitchen."

"I think I'm perfectly able of turning a piece of meat up and down, thank you very much," he was about to head to the kitchen when the bell rang, eliciting a groan out of him and a smirk out the redhead. She had dressed both Shinji and herself in semi-formal attires after having to wait half an hour for the injured youth to maneuver on his own. He wore a very elegant blue polo shirt she had picked up for him, and about the only pair of pants she had found with no holes, lacerations or food stains of any kind. The redhead, for her part, had chosen a long dress which accentuated her curves and showed just enough skin to turn anyone into a stuttering mess.

"Want me to get it?" She asked, honest excitement running through her veins. These were Shinji's peers, people who knew and interacted with him on a daily basis. These were invaluable sources of information. "You were looking a little sleepy just now."

"Nah, I'll get it," dismissing the apparent concern for his increasing exhaustion courtesy of the thrice-damned serum, Shinji pushed the blasted chair towards the door. "Oh, that reminds me; my co-workers are big fans of yours, like the crazy stalker type, so heads up," He paused by the door. "You might want to cover your ears."

"Eh?" Asuka offered, taken aback. "Cover my ears? Why would I-" The door hissed open.

"MAKE WAY FOR THE HERO OF TOKYO!"

The bark was so spontaneous, so loud and so stifling in the small house that Asuka's hands did fly over to her ears. In all her years the girl had scarcely found anyone who could match her as far as decibels went, but this… bulk of a man making his way through the door certainly was a contender.

A large, heavy hand came to rest on Shinji's shoulder with much more finesse than Asuka had expected; she stole glances of the exchange through the small hallway connecting the entrance and the kitchen/living room, still not willing to make an appearance. _Let the Baka enjoy his friends for a bit before they go blind with your greatness, Sohryu. _She smirked, popping the third of a Star of Death into her mouth.

"Boy, oh boy!" The man slapped Shinji lightly on his back, twice, then made way for two petite looking females to enter. "Look at him, Kodame, Akiko. This guy right here, this guy…" The man, apparently unaware that Shinji detested close contact, rubbed the young man's head as though he were a supple dog, which only served to make Shinji glare up at his boss. "This guy is incredible! That's twice you've saved someone, Shinji, twice! Oh, of you could have seen the amount of letters and mementos we've been receiving. My head chef, the Hero!"

"We brought some of them for you to read," The one called Kodame provided whilst signaling to a considerably hefty plastic bag full of small envelopes, get-well cards and what she assumed to be chocolates or sweets of some sort. "I swear to God, Shinji, I've never seen so much blood in my life! I honestly, like, thought you were gonna die! We were so scared!"

The young man in question scratched his head, blissfully thankful that his boss's greasy hand had left his locks. "Sorry about that, everyone. I wasn't planning on getting stabbed on my way home or anything of the sort, trust me."

The second girl, one she supposed was Akiko, turned out to be the most stereotypical Japanese young woman Asuka had seen in recent years. About nineteen to twenty years of age, perfectly white skin, black hair cut down in that strange bowl form the people of that country seemed to prefer, and to top it all off, the goofy, exeedingly respectful way of behavior. _My sweet God, and I thought Rei was boring. Rei, if you're out there somewhere, allow me to apologize. _She watched the girl bounce off with her feet and hands together, smiling up at Shinji with just the faintest of blushes on her cheeks. _I have truly, __**truly**__ found Wondergirl now. _

"Shinji-san, you should not joke about that!" The smaller youth reprimanded after Shinji had offered his best version of a bow and received a full one in return. "I read in the paper that your lung and stomach were affected! Are you in… are you in pain?"

_ Little Akiko, pain is my **life**, _he thought with a sense of detached amusement. "Yeah, they sting when I move too quickly or when I get up to the bathroom, but the doc said I'd be able to take a few steps tomorrow."

"Don't you go pushing yourself like last time, you hear?" The comment managed to raise Asuka's eyebrow in suspicion. "Crap, your arm was in a cast and you were trying to cook! Just three days after they released you! Don't be doing any stupid things like that this time around! Now, here's something that'll get you in the mood!" The large man produced two bottles of wine from the small backpack he carried, belly dancing as he laughed and presented his gift to Shinji. "Look at that, huh? Trivento, one of the very best. Thank _You_ that the seasons finally settled again or we'd never have the chance to taste this beauty. Glorious, I tell you, it's glorious!"

The former Third Child took a hold of the bottle, making both his boss and the female entourage beam in happiness. "Hmm, a very nice year," Shinji examined the bottle and smiled. "This will do perfectly with dessert. Thank you, Sukiya –san. Thank you very much for coming as well, Akiko, Kodame."

"Ah, don't mention it, hero! Here, I brought a nice little Savignon Blanc for the tuna, and a good old Marquez de Cáceres, a Merlot. Should go nicely with the food." The bottles clacked noisily in the man's bag.

"Yeah, Shinji! Here," The large ammount of envelopes was unceremoniously dumped on Shinji's lap. "Now you can deal with all this damn love mail yourself. Jeez, you have a pretty strong fanbase, you know."

"The girl from your gym showed up!" Akiko added as the three of them made their way to the living room. "She kind of threatened us, but we know she's not all there so we got her some Ramen and she was on her way!" Shinji pushed himself over to the table and set the wine bottle down while depositing the bag full of letters on the couch.

"Yeah, sorry about that, guys," He shrugged, scratching a faint itch on his left arm and feeling the wound in his stomach burn. "I kinda promised her we'd spar on the day after my birthday, and you know how she gets."

"Yeah, talk about crazy! I really am happy she settled down, though; that girl is _bonkers_. Now, great Host, are you even allowed to drink at the moment?"

Shinji stiffened and looked away nervously. "Ah… well, about that. I think I'm not really all-"

"A glass of red wine or two wouldn't hurt. It'd relax his muscles and allow a better blood flow, which in turn would be beneficial to his healing." Four pair of eyes blinked and redirected where Asuka stood with a seagreen dress adorned by patters which resembled waves, hair down, and a pair of tanzanite earrings which made her blue eyes sparkle. "Hi! I'm Sohryu Asuka Langley. Charmed, huh?"

Shinji sighed in dejection, and covered his ears. _Here it comes, any second now…_

"EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEKKKKKKKKK!"

Even the redhead herself blinked and retreated half a step when both the girls and the heavy man who was Shinji's boss squealed like twelve-year-olds who had just seen their favorite teen singer. Both waitresses reduced the space between them and her in a second, disregarding Shinji's injured state entirely, and started bombarding her with questions as they fidgeted, jumped in place and stared with star-struck eyes at the famous Second Child.

"Oh my God it was true what I saw in the paper the other day, she did come! Look, Akiko, look, it's… Eeeeeeeekk! It's _**Madam Sohryu**_!"

_Madam Sohryu? _Asuka raised a concerned, questioning gaze to Shinji, who simply looked the other way and set about cooking the tuna. _The damn idiot was waiting on this! _"Ah… yeah, well, yes, I'm currently in Japan, as is… clear… right now."

The girl's squealed so loud this time that Asuka visibly cringed, and almost jumped out of her skin when Shinji's boss pushed his face in between them. "Let me just say, it is an incredible honor to meet you in person, Madam Sohryu! I… I… I never expected to see you, here of all places! What an incredible day! May I ask for an autograph? Oh, and if it's not too much trouble, a picture for my little daughter? She'd be so delighted! Oh, my dear! Shinji, you old dog! Why didn't you tell us you had _the_ Great Sohryu Asuka Langley in your house?!"

Before Shinji could respond, another barrage assaulted the redhead's ear in the form of the so called Akiko. "Eeeek! Miss Sohryu, you are my hero! Elite pilot since you were ten, valedictorian of your university, you've even published whole articles on biology and the improvement of modern methods!"

"Ah…" the young doctor's eyes widened even more, feeling very uncomfortable with the reduced distance the seemingly respectful girl had opted to speak to her from. "You have to remain active, you know?" Letting the rehearsed answers flow, Asuka entertained Shinji's guests. "You can't just shut yourself down after you achieve one goal! The more you move forward, the more things you will achieve! So yeah, of course, I have a few things to say about those age-old methods they push down your throat in medical school! Anyway, do you know Shinji well?"

Shinji' eyes whipped back to her, and the redhead smiled broadly. "W-Well," Akiko mustered, still processing that Asuka was indeed standing in front of her. "We've been working in the restaurant for about three years, right Kodame? Right?" The girl shook her partner with vehemence. "Right?!"

"P-Please excuse her," the slightly older female commented, and offered a nervous smile. "We're really big fans, you see. We've been working with Ikari-kun since we got the job! We're roommates, she and I. Um, could I take a picture with you? I hope I'm not intruding too mu-"

The elder man's arms wrapped around the three ladies in one fluid motion, which almost triggered Asuka's defenses and would have forced her to sink the man's ribs deep into his organs, has she not remembered he was, in fact, Shinji's boss. "Now come on here, all of you! Say Cheese!"

"And, and… are you here taking care of him? Of your fellow pilot?" Kodame asked with thirst for gossip evident in her hungered gaze.

"Why, yes," she turned over to smirk at Shinji's back. No reaction whatsoever to the question; he was engrossed in his cooking. "Of course, that's why I'm here! We EVA pilots cannot possibly sit idly while one of us is in great need!"

The last comment earned her a suspicious glance from the restaurant owner, squeals of delight from the newly indoctrinated members of her fan club, and… no reaction from the boy in question. Not so much as a shrug, or a glare, so Asuka huffed and turned back to the guests. After taking about ten pictures with each, answering their bickering, redundant questions about her work and life, painstakingly enduring the man's happy, thunderous voice and being nothing less than the perfect hostess, Shinji called them into the table, and the devouring began.

She ate slowly, carefully, minding to not monopolize the conversation and instead watched with great interest how Shinji interacted. He was charming, indeed, at least the nurses had been right on that regard; he was very polite, like she remembered, but now teased ever so lightly and chuckled, asked about the restaurant's daily activities, details of the girls' personal lives, and listened intently. He spoke with the owner with distanced respect however much the man himself insisted in being informal and familiar with him, and was quick to remind them about the delivery of this or that ingredient in the coming week.

As the former Second Child chewed on the generous, perfectly cooked tuna and let her taste buds be directed to Heaven by the delicate sauce the boy had prepared, she did notice a lack of questions regarding his personal life. The girls and elder gentleman seemed quite adamant on even asking about details related to Shinji's current state, his drug use, or the circumstances in which he had ended up so beaten up. Of course, the newspaper and online media had already made the heroic act circle all over the world, narrating how on the night of his birthday, Ikari Shinji had been prepared to lay down his life to protect an innocent schoolgirl who, above all things, was not even Japanese, and had fought four gang members at once, leaving one with numerous and severe facial fractures, and another one with a cracked skull, dislocated jaw and a knife in the gut.

She wondered if this was how Shinji always cooked, or if he changed the typical menu for something that would accommodate his guests, but she could not be happier for it. Asuka had dreamed about tasting his food again for years, wondering if what she remembered from those days was merely a strange recollection. Seated on Shinji's table, seven years later, she concluded his style had only improved, but flourished and had almost ascended to gourmet cuisine. Hell, he even had smooth jazz playing on the sound system!

"And so," she interjected, taking a sip of wine. _Damn, that is a good Malbec if I ever had one, _"What sort of food do you serve in the restaurant?" She also took notice of the expert way in which the young man ate despite his injuries, without a single slip of etiquette; he was elegant, refined, just like the dishes he had prepared.

"Well, I used to have a big food chain back in the day," Sukiya elaborated, and bit down on a large piece of fish, pausing to close his eyes in delight. "Hmmm, and _that's_ why you're getting a raise, Ikari. Damn! Anyway, after Second Impact sales kind of crashed, so I sold out and got myself a nice little manageable building in Tokyo 02, and guess what!? It survived Third Impact, and the huge building my competition had built crashed like a house of cards!" He explained, poured more wine to both his and Shinji's cups, and drank. "Now we focus a bit on the traditional side, you know, classic dishes, and I've made a small opening for international cuisine, for which I have to thank your co-pilot, Sohryu-sama! Kampai, Shinji!"

The brown-haired youth sniggered goodheartedly and raised his own glass. "Kampai, Sukiya-san, Akiko, Kodame," he dipped his head her way, with that relaxed, small smile making his entire features look alive, distinguished and... cute. "Asuka." She blushed, gulping and looking away, and took a sip of wine. It had not gone unnoticed by her that Shinji had swallowed about two Valiums and a Xanax throughout the day, and would address the matter after lunch, but for the time of being she allowed herself to enjoy Shinji 'the gentleman'.

The afternoon flowed nicely along with the dishes; before anyone realized it all three bottles and a fresh one Shinji had offered were all but gone, they were seated around the young man's living room talking and drinking, with Shinji actually participating and even smiling from time to time. Then, the disastrous question arose, destroying Asuka's mood with sickening ferocity and in the blink of an eye. "So…Sohryu-sama," the one called Akiko slurred, grinning innocently in her direction. "Have you heard any news about Mr. Möritz? You haven't dated in almost two years! Still carrying the flame?"

Almost choking on her wine upon hearing that name mentioned of all things, Asuka took a large gulp and tried to glare a hole through the girl's skull a second afterwards. Kodame elbowed her roommate with enough momentum to push the air out her ribcage. "Akiko!" She reprimanded, mortified. "Sohryu-sama, I am so sorry about this. She doesn't really drink, you see, so maybe the wine got a little too her head… please excuse her…"

Most likely aware of her fiery temper and habit of walking out on interviews at will if the person asking the questions displeased her, Asuka could understand the girl's naked panic. Her eyes, however, were locked on Shinji, and the fact that his pleasant little smile had disappeared under the gloom of a light frown. _No, shit, no! NO! _Her right hand curled into a fist, but she forced herself to relax. _No! I was finally…! He was __**smiling**__, damn you!_

"I… no. It's no problem," swallowing down the physical need to take one of the empty wine bottles and break it on the girl's perfect little face, Asuka reminded herself she was in Shinji's house, and that his boss was sitting right next to him, alarmed and flustered all the way down to his second chin. Shinji refused to meet her eyes, engrossed in emptying his glass in one go all of the sudden. "We broke up two years ago. I haven't heard from him since. We…" she tried to smile, even when it was clearly false. "We dated for very little, truly. I guess my job and goals always take priority, and I end up not having time for distractions."

"B-(cough)-But then," the enhibriated waitress tried to elaborate despite her friend actively tugging on her dress. "How come you just left everything and came here? Does that mean… oohh…"

"I do believe we have overstayed our welcome, girls," Sukiya seemed to know Shinji to a certain degree, for as soon as the boy chugged the glass and refilled it in one fluid motion, he was on his feet, hands clasped together. "Shinji, you old dog, I love what you've done with the place!" he not so discreetly glared at his workers and signaled for them to rise and say their farewells. "Sohryu-sama, it has truly been a pleasure to meet one of Shinji's old acquaintances, and I know his health is in the very best of hands! Thank you very much for gracing us with your company today. And Shinji!" The man's heavy hand tapped Shinji's right shoulder. "Make sure you heal up good and well, you hear? We'll be expecting you in the restaurant! And treat this incredible lady with nothing but your best behavior!"

"Sukiya-san, you are too kind," Shinji shook the man's hand with a frigid smile and the same friendly tone he had used all evening. "Thank you very much for the visit, it truly brightened my day. I'll be sure to return as soon as I'm physically able." He nodded towards the effectively unconscious Akiko and an apologetic Kodame, bowing his head slightly. "Your company is always a pleasure. Thank you very much for taking the time to come see me."

"L-Let me walk you to the door, everyone," she escaped along with the guests and took notice that Shinji drank the second glass quicker than he'd emptied the first one. She hastily pressed the button a took a large lungful of fresh, crispy night air as the small entourage followed behind.

The elder man wrung his hands together as though extremely worried, his brown eyes darted back and forth and refused to meet Asuka's steady gaze. "I'm sorry about that, Sohryu-sama, she really doesn't drink that often. I hope we didn't spoil the mood of the evening…"

"Nonsense," she answered, and patted the man lightly on the shoulder, to which a content smile manifested in Sukiya. "Shinji had a really great time, I could tell, and I had lots of fun, as well. Thank you for the visit."

"O-Oh… P-Please allow me to invite you to the restaurant! You would be our honored guest! Everything on the house, absolutely anything you want!" Just as the man gestured with his hands and lightened up the small hallway with the strangely jovial nature he displayed, Kodame snuck out a threw a vastly apologetic glance her, to which the redhead responded with a freezing glare, giving the helpless girl a taste of the reason why her colleagues left her very much alone. "Would you accept this offer, Sohryu-sama? Of course, you must be a busy woman! But… if you find yourself hungry, and have the t-"

"I'd love to visit your restaurant," she answered with as much politeness a the swirl of emotions in her chest allowed. "But… I'd like to wait until Shinji recovers, and perhaps… have him cook for me?"

Taken aback by her smooth response, Sukiya struggled for a response. "A-I mean-Ugh… O-Of course, how silly of me! Yes, absolutely! I'm sure Shinji will be delighted with the idea!" Just as he seemed ready to leave, the restaurant owner's body language changed, to Asuka's surprise, and he leaned in to whisper as he offered an open hand in her direction. "_Please_, take care of him, Sohryu-sama. He has been… very sick… for a very long time. We hold him quite dearly, all of us…" he motioned towards the apartment building, towards the city once she clasped his hand. "He is… our hero, and he suffers. Shinji doesn't like to cause anyone problems or hardships; he just doesn't want to be anybody's burden… and has convinced himself that he doesn't _deserve_ anyone's help. We…" again, the man's eyes drew to the city. "We have committed… atrocities towards this gentle, good man who is our hero, and he had burdened it all by himself. Sohryu-sama," the held her hand with both of his. "I believe in my heart that you are the person to help him stand proud, as he should. I implore you… he is… our beacon."

"I know," was all she said, and patted the joined hands with curt nod. "I know he is a hero, and I know he's in pain. I'll save him, you'll see."

Sukuya nodded, turning to leave. "He still does, you know." He whispered, a few feet away.

"Huh?" Perplexed, Asuka leaned a bit closer. "He does what?"

The man's knowing eyes softened on her frame as his head turned a bit in her direction. "He still loves you. Always has, always will. Even a blind old bat like me can see it."

She had no answer to the statement; nothing short of been rendered speechless for the first time in her life, by a complete stranger of all things. The night air caressed her shoulders and made her hair sway, her eyes remained locked on the large retreating back until it was no longer visible, lost in thought. _He… what? He… that's impossible. We barely even know each other, we barely even- no… we know **everything** about each other, at least every little thing until Third Impact. _She turned to stare at the city. _I looked into his __**soul**__, and I saw myself. Only… only warm, not like me, so warm… so close... so terrifying… _

"Hey!" Came the ragged yell from inside the house. "Mind closing the door, please? You can stay out and freeze if you want, but I'm pretty done with that cold night air, myself!" _And there goes the moment, _she pouted, frowned, and turned back to the house.

"Geez, who would've thought that with the generous amount of wine you've been drinking, you feel anything under your neck right now," she commented, noticing that Shinji's glass was empty and sitting on the kitchen while the boy himself attempted to maneuver the dirty dishes into the sink. "God, Shinji, can you for once in your life leave things to me? How clean was the house when you first got here, huh?"

"It was spotless," Shinji said, slurring just a tiny bit. "I'm aware you can do all this, I just like doing it. I hate being stuck in this stupid chair." He seemed to have forgotten the dreadful comment of his co-worker, to Asuka's satisfaction, and seemed to be working a good buzz between the bear she'd given him before lunch began, the pills he had chugged and the wine. "Besides, it's not like I'm making sudden movements."

"You better not," she commented, and from one moment to the other she was washing the dishes while Shinji handed them over, hummed to himself and rolled here and there with the wheelchair he detested, stopping only to maneuver back if there was no room for him to get through. A very uncomfortable, stifiling silence fell upon them, and both the statement Shinji's boss had made and Akiko's question floated incessantly in her brain. Finally, as the young man passed her the last plate with an air of absolute nonchalance, she spoke. "It didn't mean anything."

"Hmm?" Shinji turned back, blinking. "I'm sorry?"

"That guy, Möritz, it didn't mean anything." She kept her gaze focused on cleansing and washing the plate, shoulders stiff and uncooperative. "We really only dated a couple of weeks, and that was that. It… I wasn't… it was nothing."

"I suppose that Möritz guy would be sad to hear it," he answered smoothly, with the strangely charming tone he had used all evening dancing off his tongue. "You shouldn't be so hard on him. But then again, it's not my business."

"What do you mean?" She was asking before even realizing it.

"Exactly what you heard, Frau Doctor," the tone of voice became strained, forced, and Asuka noticed almost instantly. "You have a life, an independent life. You're free to date and drink and smoke and go out and study and do all the great things that Sohryu Asuka Langley does. It's none of my business, never was in the first place."

She placed the last dish on the drier, hands falling onto the sink in despair. Indifference. The same weapon she had so mercilessly used during their time together after Third Impact, the weapon she had hurled his way in Shinji's most desperate time of need. He was being indifferent, acting as though it truly mattered not to him who she dated, or if she dated at all. "I… well, I thought, I just wanted to say that… t-to anyone," quickly avoiding leaving herself vulnerable before a very unstable Shinji, Asuka found herself confessing something she had only ever told the corpse of her mother. "None of them meant a damn thing, not one of them. Not Möritz, not that idiot Fabio, not… not any of them. I wanted to say that."

Daring a sideway glance at the boy in question, Asuka suppressed a shudder when she saw him glaring deeply at the place on his couch where Akiko had preferred to sit. "I see," he said after a few moments, jaw clenched. "I'm sorry to hear you haven't been able to find… a loving partner who is worthy of you," for a fleeting moment, Asuka saw Shinji stand and slam the wall violently in her mind's eye; the image was so strong she had to blink twice to ensure herself he was still seated in the wheelchair. "Do you need to change my bandages again? You did so after I showered, and I'm a bit tired. That serum gets me dizzy."

"Shinji…" she turned to where he sat feeling as if a rock was weighing her body down. He was pretending indifference, and failing in a most absolute fashion with his eyes narrowed, frown obscured by his hair, and left hand holding onto the wheel with brutal force. "I didn't mean to make your friends uncomfortable, okay? She just asked me, and … I thought you had the right to kn-"

"They're not my friends." He interrupted dryly. His hand relaxed, but the frown deepened. "Sukuya-san is my boss; the girls are waitresses in the restaurant where I work, nothing more. We're not _friends_."

"And what about that Krista girl?" Asuka rebuqued with honest curiosity.

"Gym partner," Shinji shrugged.

"And the guy who messaged you last night? That guy from what I assume to be your gym?"

"My trainer, Jackson-san." He pushed the chair in his room's direction. "I don't have any friends. Not any that I know of."

"What about Touji? And Kensuke?" Asuka paused, bit her lip and jumped into the void. "What about Hikari?"

Shinji paused, turned the chair in her direction and met her eyes. There was no anger obscuring his gaze, she noted, but something far more familiar, and something she decided looked far worse on his matured face than anything else. _Defeat, _she realized. _Complete, total defeat._

"I broke Touji's jaw after he cheated on Hikari last year, Asuka," Shinji answered, sounding… regretful, if only a tad, for the first time since she had arrived. "Kensuke… we kind of drifted apart some years ago, when he joined the JSDF. And Hikari… she doesn't want anything to do with me, and I don't blame her." He gave her a melancholic smile, expression devoid of any defenses or falsehood. "I don't have any friends, Asuka. For about seven years, I thought my only friend were you," his eyes drifted to the spot on his thigh where the wound was. "But then again, I've always been an idiot. Thanks for… everything today, really. You made my guests feel more at home than I ever could, and I _am_ grateful. I think I'll turn in, now."

"I know you took some pills," she tried in a lame attempt to keep him from leaving. "I know, some Valiums and a Xanax, but… it's okay. You're healing, I need your body to be as relaxed as it can be," she fidgeted, uncomfortable. Shinji was no longer looking at her. "I won't allow it tomorrow, though."

"Then we'll cross that bridge when we get to it."

"_He still loves you. Always has, always will." _

"_Asuka," _the shrink's voice said with eternal patience. _"I understand you're afraid to allow yourself the slightest vulnerability, and I understand why. I fear, however, that in life we must many times risk the danger of being hurt, or betrayed, or lied to, in our own pursuit for inner peace, and happiness. The only thing you have to ask yourself is… is that person worth the risk?"_

Shinji was about to enter his bedroom.

"They weren't you."

He stopped abruptly, head turning in her direction. "What? Who?"

"All of them," she clarified, refusing to avoid her eyes from his and letting him see the sincerity behind her words. If he wanted to insult or belittle her afterwards, she could take it. "Any of them, you pick. None of them was you, and because of that…" she paused, and gave Shinji a sad smile. "They weren't enough."

He stared at her, wide-eyed, paralyzed, barely even breathing and with his mouth slightly agape. "Wha… ho-you…" he blinked, shaking his head as something akin to desperation and overwhelming despair fell on him. "What do you… what?"

"They weren't you," she repeated, and crossed her arms. "I know it's a stupid thing, but it's the _truth_. I don't want any of them, I never did." _I only wanted you, and it terrified the living shit out of me, so I ran._ "So…" she sighed and broke eye contact, cerulean orbs turning to her right hand, where the scar had looked back for over a year. "What's up with this Krista? Is she… really just your gym partner? It's not like it's my business," she was quick to add. "It's… I want to know. You don't have to answer."

Shinji returned her sad smile with one of pure hopelessness. With a shake of his head, he turned away. "She's not you." He pushed himself into the room, and once inside made no major effort to close the door other than a half-hearted push. "Good night, Asuka. I'll see you tomorrow."

She stayed near the table for a few minutes, and even closed her eyes to better perceive Shinji's movements inside the room. Regardless of the calm, collected tone of voice he had used and the cold, defeated expression, Asuka had sensed animosity, anger and rage beyond her own urges. The image of him getting up from the wheelchair and bashing his own wall remained locked in her brain. According to Misato, when his anger became uncontrollable, Shinji would drink and do cocaine, get himself into street fights and get himself hurt.

The door was slightly ajar, with just enough space for her eye to see his drawer, mirror and hear some form of incessant mumbling. She tiptoed as quietly as possible with the careful steps training had drilled into her, and once near the door, controlled her breathing to an almost imperceptible sigh and dared a single celurean orb to inspect the bedroom. Surprised to find no broken glass, no overturned furniture nor any other signs of violence, she dared a sideway glance and noticed Shinji had a very heavy looking hand strengthener on his right hold, and was squeezing it without reprieve as he seethed in the wheelchair, snarling into his own window. He kept easily bending the metallic rings until his ire grew impossible to channel, so he threw the innocent object against a wall.

_Coke, _his brain urged, arms shaking. _I need some coke. A couple of lines, some drinks, and then… _He pushed the hated chair in the drawer's direction, positevily salivating at the thought of taking a few lines. The drowsiness from the serum's effect was sure to evaporate, his sharp tongue and keen instincts would return, and he'd have the energy to... to… _To what? Have somebody kick me in the stomach and puke out blood from my oh so powerful fucking wheelchair? _

Opening the drawer with grim determination, Shinji scouted through his socks and extracted a small bag filled with the white substance. _This is that Möritz piece of shit, _his mind snarled, clutching the bag. _This is that latin shit, this is that Nakamura asshole. Take it in; poison yourself with it like you always do. _His hand was shaking, cobalt eyes burning into the small bag; however much he wanted, needed to take a few lines, some invisible force was holding him back. _Just a little bit, and it'll be like it always is. Just a little bit…_

And so he glared at the bag, veins bulging in his forearm, faintly aware of the eye watching him from afar.

She stood by the door whilst he glared at the white substance with endless hatred and envy, heart constricting in her chest. If he used… she'd have to stop him. That drug would make him aggressive, to be sure, would make him want to move and hurt himself in the process. _I… I'm scared. _She realized; Shinji was strong indeed, but he was injured, very injured. She was frightened of watching him hurt, of having to hurt him to keep him contained. She didn't want that, the very idea of hurting him made her sick. "Don't…" she whispered inaudibly, clutching the door's handle. "Don't… Shinji…"

He wanted it; so very badly he wanted it. He'd done so before, the day he had watched them in the cover of that magazine during the morning run, he had snorted until his mind was numb, gotten himself drunk, snorted some more and slammed some asshole's face against the pavement after knocking him out. It was there, in his hand, more than half an ounce of it; if his body failed to move, then perhaps it could overdose and the pain that cut him more deeply than the gash in his _fucking_ stomach would dispel at long last.

More than anything, however, he wished to have that snotty little blonde brat with his height, and his perfect musculature in front of him, if only to turn that perfect little frame into minced meat and bloodied remains. _"They weren't you." _ Shinji snarled, and threw the bag back into his drawer, closing it with savagery and making the wounds burn in the process. He produced the bottle of methadone instead, retrieved three pills and chewed on them, washing away the bitter flavor with water.

"Yeah, it's a good thing they weren't me," he grumbled. His right hand came to pinch the bridge of his nose as Shinji forced his eyes shut and bit the inside of both cheeks. "I'm nothing. _**Nothing**_. That's what I can offer her. Nothing. She deserves the very best... not the lowest of the low."

For once in two years the voices were silent, but the pain in his chest did not even allow Shinji to realize it. There he sat for what felt like hours until he began nodding off and the images of Asuka's former lover stopped flashing through his head. Hissing with every step and groaning to himself, Shinji took off the pants and lay down on the bed; he breathed in deep. _Asuka's scent. _

The boy in chains trembled in utter terror. Sure, he was adamant on protecting Asuka, her integrity and memory, but shook life a leaf at the thought of taking a step forward, on in his case, _pushing_ himself a bit forward. _**It's better this way, **_the boy mumbled, hugging the shackles to himself. _**This way we can't hurt her, and she can be happy. It's for the best. It's always been for the best if we're far from her. **_

_Then, _Shinji asked in return, wishing to be able to drink something more than three meager glasses of wine. _Why the hell do I not want to be away from her, anymore? Why do I want to… hold her? Why does holding her sound better than… _his eyes drifted to the drawer. _What the hell is going on with me? I am really going crazy again, aren't I, Mother? _

Silence. Nothing but the gentle hum of his own breathing came to answer, and it dawned on Shinji that a day, a full day had passed without him seeing or hearing his mother somewhere. The silence was suddenly too stifling, he awaited the creaking of bones and the smell of decomposition with paranoia corroding his altered state of mind, yet no such sounds emanated from his bathroom, roof or floor. Only the light aroma of fruits, woman, sweat, salt, and what he assumed was what home smelt like.

_Mother? _

He did see his mother, in his dreams, and as always, she elicited a scream from him.

The next morning, however, just as he was about to lift his body and let out a howl of demented sorrow, Shinji found himself anchored to bed. Once he managed to stop from hyperventilating and hissing in pain, and once the sight of the dead world all around him faded, the young man discovered he could barely feel his right arm at all, and turned.

Asuka lay next to him, fast asleep, holding onto his arm with ferocity while her head was cradled on his shoulder. She was barely on the mattress at all, and had anchored herself to him in such a way that even if he were to move, she would be the one to fall down. His left hand lifted with every intention of shaking her and demanding an explanation at once, but then the girl shifted in her sleep, nudging his one useful arm with her head.

"Baka…" she whispered, and to Shinji's shock, a small tear fell down her cheek. "Baka… Shinji…"

Sober, disarmed beyond words, aching with life-threatening wounds and at a complete loss of what to do, the boy's body reacted on instinct, and despite the entire wounded side of him curling in blinding agony, Shinji's left hand shot up, and brushed a few strands off Asuka's face. She truly was beautiful. "Shhh…" he cooed, wiping away the moisture with a scarred thumb. "Shhh… it's okay. Here, come on, shhh, just a little, come on…" He coerced the unconscious redhead to move just a tad closer, and when one of her hands uncoiled from his arms and lay on his chest, seeking for something, he held onto it with his own, and pressed them both to the pit of his stomach, mere inches away from his stomach wound. "Sleep, Asuka… rest… shh…"

He had no clue of what hour it was since the clock was currently being blocked by a mass of red locks, but it was still dark. _Is this a dream? A nightmare? Did I die in my sleep?_

_**No, my sweet boy, you did not.**_

Ikari Yui rested on his doorframe, putrid smile ever present, green eyes gleaming in the dark. _**Isn't this a nice little scene? How long until you make her relapse, I wonder? You know you will, Shinji-kun. That is all you are, a walking disease, my son. We will hurt her, all of us, in the end. **_

_You will not touch a strand of hair on her head, _he commanded, forcing the tidal wave of screams to a grinding halt. _Nobody will, so long as she is here. I will blow my brains out the second I think I'll do otherwise, and then where will you go, Mother? That's right, straight down to Lilith's mouth, along with me. _He held onto the girl's hand and felt a strange sense of protectiveness flare in his half-dead heart. Nobody was allowed to hurt Asuka, not while she was in his vicinity. It mattered not if she left the following day, or a month or three. She was off limits, even to him.

_**Oh, darling you are **__**hilarious**__**, **_the apparition turned its back and headed for the kitchen, disappearing. _**When have you ever been able to protect anyone or anything, ever? Even from yourself? **_

He refused to answer, knowing well Asuka had most likely sleepwalked into his room. Still, Shinji had dreamed for this moment, awake, asleep, on drugs and sober on a nigh infinite number of times, and despite the little brat rattling in his little cage and crying out in outrage, for once in his life, he refused to listen to both the junkie, his mother, and the brat.

Asuka was on _his_ bed, clutching _his_ arm. Nothing else in the world held any interest to him.

"_They weren't you." _

"No," he mumbled, refusing to fall back asleep and determined to engrave the memory into his fading brain. For a brief moment, just shy of a heartbeat, he felt the endless envy and rage be justified at last, and clutched Asuka's hand a bit tighter. "They weren't..."

**TBC…**

* * *

Inspirational Music: **Systematic Chaos (album), A Dramatic Turn of Events (album)**\- Dream Theater; **Seventh Son of a Seventh Son (album), Life after Death (Live album)** – Iron Maiden, **Bad Company** – Five Finger Death Punch, **Bagpipes from Bagdhad, Fast Lane, Venom, Mockingbird**\- Eminem, **Forget to Remember, Happy**\- Mudvayne, **Nobody Praying for Me** \- Seether.

_AN: And another one bites the dust! Damn! Yeah, me like this. Kinda romantic fic, if ya ask me. It lets itself be written, if that says anything. Lots of fluff! Take the fluff, love the fluff, be the fluff. Just don't get used to it. Anyway, the song Bagpipes from Bagdad is a diss at Mariah Kerry, Em's ex, and there's plenty of stuff being said about him wanting her back, and then saying fuck it let the next guy deal with it, and it's an overall jolly song, hence the jolly ambient of the chapter. I focused a bit on how our two main characters react to the reality that they've been apart for many years, and in those years they've done…(cough)… naughty things. With other people. That is not them. Okay, you get the point. _

_plot's advancing nicely, and quickly enough, I hope. I'll work on Asuka's POV of the night in the next chappie's introduction. Lots of maturity being thrown from both sides, huh? How come?! Well… we'll have to wait and see... and will things stay so happy-go-lucky? Nothing ever does, sadly, with these two. Add drug addiction to the mix, and... yeah... _

_Next is Hello! Hello! Allow me to introduce myself! My name is… Jealousy! So nice to meet you! It's been a long time, sorry I have been away so long! My name is… Jealousy! I didn't meant to leave you! _

_Darkness is coming… unlike Winter in GOT, which… well… disappointment. Anyway. Hope you're enjoying this so far!  
_

PEACE.


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